Umino Iruka and the Will of Fire
by Leicontis
Summary: "The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world." Some would say that Hogwarts is the wrong place for Umino Iruka, and he's about to find out. With new students, he hopes to light the Will of Fire in this new world while new dangers lurk in the darkness. No overpowered ninjas running roughshod over the Potterverse in this fic! Mentor!Iruka, Gen fic
1. 0-1: Arrival

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **A/N: The idea for this fic came from pondering the question: "Could any Naruto character be dropped into the Harry Potter world and have a positive effect without being ridiculously overpowered?" If you're looking for Super!Harry, you won't find him here. I don't want a prohibitive wall of A/N here so I'm putting more information in a longer A/N at the bottom.**

 **This fic will contain spoilers for most of the Harry Potter series, as well as bits of Naruto.**

 **For those wishing to skip ahead (and possibly find themselves confused), Book 1 begins with Chapter 11 (or 1-1).**

 **Text inside «» is in Japanese.**

* * *

 **Book 0: Umino Iruka and the Wizarding World**

Jutsu mishaps are a fact of life in any Hidden Village. While unlikely among experienced shinobi, those with less experience are more accident-prone. Gather several dozen adolescent students in one place and the likelihood rises to near certainty. Backlashes, chakra dysfunctions, misfires, and (unintended) explosions are all unpleasantly familiar to anyone that has spent time teaching at a shinobi academy; an accepted hazard of their chosen profession, so to speak. Usually such mishaps follow consistent patterns: Students trying to master the same jutsu will usually make similar mistakes. Thus, their teachers are generally well-prepared to handle the aftermath.

Real trouble comes from the more unusual failures, especially those that come from ambitious students attempting jutsu well beyond their current abilities, or even trying something completely at random. These attempts can produce truly unpredictable results. When the attempt (and mishap) in question comes at the hands of the son of history's most unpredictable shinobi, a man well-known for frequently doing things previously believed to be 'impossible'...

The screams weren't all that surprising; bad mishaps could get messy, and injured and/or frightened children are prone to screaming. Even in his disoriented state, Iruka snapped into action, pulling supplies from the large first-aid kit he was carrying in case of training mishaps (like this one) and moving to the obvious casualty in front of him. Even without knowing medical jutsu, he'd taken the advanced classes instituted by Tsunade-sama to make sure even non-medics could stabilize their wounded comrades until more extensive aid could be reached.

The teacher began assessing his patient's injuries: burns, shrapnel wounds, blunt trauma, concussive injury, chakra depletion - wait, no... The chakra levels were low, but none of the usual signs accompanying chakra depletion were present. How did a civilian manage to get hit in a training mishap? It was only then that Iruka's mind finally registered his surroundings. Instead of being outdoors in a training field adjoining the Academy, he was in an unfamiliar room whose construction and decoration was of a style he'd never seen before (though the scorch marks, blood spatter, and other damage were probably a recent addition). Far from being a ten-year-old aspiring shinobi, the casualty was a civilian woman, late 20s or early 30s, with pale skin and long silver-blond hair, reminiscent of a Yamanaka. The only other person present was a girl of similar age to the students Iruka had been working with, though she too was unfamiliar, whose features suggested a close relation to the woman. It was from this girl, now standing in clear shock and confusion, that the screams had issued.

Pushing aside the obvious questions about where in the Sage's name he was and how he'd gotten there (though the answer to the latter likely included the name 'Uzumaki'), Iruka frantically began bandaging the woman's shrapnel wounds to try and staunch the bleeding. The number and severity of the wounds, though, was proving problematic. He needed more hands, but in his current condition his chakra reserves weren't nearly full enough for a Shadow Clone. Only one option, then: «I know you're scared right now,» he said to the girl in his best reassuring 'teacher's voice', «but I need your help. I need you to press this gauze pad here to help stop the bleeding; can you do that for me?»

The girl's only response was a baffled stare, followed by words Iruka couldn't understand, though he assumed they meant something like 'what are you saying?'. A language barrier. Just what he needed. Pushing down his frustration and worry, he kept his face, tone and body language as calm and reassuring as he could, adding gestures to his instructions as he again asked for her help. Soon, even despite their trouble communicating, the two were working together to help the woman he could only assume was the girl's mother.

As they worked, Iruka's mind idly examined the pattern of the damage in the room, the woman's injuries, her positioning on his arrival, and the girl's position and condition. It was clear that there'd been some kind of small explosion, a fraction of the power of a standard explosive tag, but made just as dangerous by the woman's proximity and the generation of shrapnel. Also apparent was that there had been at least a moment's warning, and that the woman had moved to shield her daughter, likely worsening her own injuries as a result. This assessment only strengthened Iruka's resolve to make sure the woman survived.

Finally, after several fraught minutes filled with bandaging, pressing, checking, and the occasional suture, Iruka and the girl were able to sit back and catch their breath, their patient reasonably stable for at least the present. After sitting and staring at her mother in shock for several moments, the girl started, and dashed to a wrought-iron spiral staircase at the center of the circular room. Iruka hurriedly followed down the stairs into a large circular eat-in kitchen, to find her standing before a hearth of rather impressive size in the neighboring room. To Iruka's confusion, she reached into a vase on an end table nearby, throwing a handful of some sort of powder into the hearth, which promptly lit with _green_ fire! Confusion turned to alarm as the girl moved not away from the strange blaze, but towards it. Iruka dashed over and grabbed her before she could burn herself, causing the girl to shriek in alarm and try fruitlessly to pull away.

Upon realizing who held her, the girl immediately began speaking rapid-fire in her language, and gesturing towards the now-dying green flames. Surprisingly, her tone wasn't that of panicked babble, but of confident urgency and command. Curious, Iruka reached tentatively towards the diminishing flames and was surprised to feel that no heat radiated from them. Reassured, if still confused, he released the girl, allowing her to throw another handful of the unassuming powder into the hearth, causing the green flames to flare back up.

To his dying day, Iruka would never admit to the words he used in front of a child when he saw said child shout something then _stick her head into the green fire_. While she bent before the flames, her head and neck seemed to blur and fade, as if they weren't entirely there, though she showed no ill effects from this, nor any sign of burning. After a few moments of muffled conversation with an adult male voice, the girl stood and stepped back, gently urging Iruka away from the hearth at the same time. The reason for this was soon made clear, as the green flames flared higher than ever as the most bizarrely-dressed man he had ever seen (and between Naruto and the YOUTHful lineage that was saying something) seemed to appear spinning within the flames before stepping out as they died out behind him.

The new arrival was tall and lanky, with stringy blond hair and garments of an unfamiliar cut in a truly eye-watering medley of colors. Sparing a brief glance towards Iruka (obviously to assess whether he posed a threat), the man turned to the girl and spoke gently but urgently to her. She replied and pointed to the stairs, turning the man's worried expression to one of alarm and concern. He rushed to upstairs to the woman's side, pulling a polished wooden stick from his clothes (tool? weapon?) and proceeded to wave it in precise patterns over the woman, while muttering words that sounded like yet another unfamiliar language. To Iruka's surprise, this resulted in a number of colored lights, both from the stick to the woman's body, and appearing around her with color variations around her injuries - whatever that stick was, it was clearly a tool for these diagnostic jutsu, with the movements presumably taking the place of hand seals.

Before Iruka could further ponder what he was seeing, the man rushed back to the hearth, throwing in more of the green powder, before doing as the girl (his daughter perhaps?) had and sticking his head into the flames, shouting urgently to whomever he was trying to contact, before withdrawing. Soon the flames flared up again and emitted three new arrivals, all of whom were dressed in similar pale-green uniforms and wore the familiar confident focus of medics responding to an emergency. Within moments, they too were waving sticks over the woman, pouring phials of medicine into her mouth, and examining Iruka and his young helper's work. Throughout this, the girl clung to her father, who wrapped his arms around her as both tensely watched the medics and their patient. Iruka simply stood and observed, ready to help anywhere he could and uncertain of what else to do in the strange environment.

Once the initial frenzy of activity calmed, Iruka relaxed and one of the three medics (a petite woman with an athletic build and short-cropped sandy hair) stood and approached Iruka and the father-daughter pair. In a gentle voice, she asked several questions, most of which were answered by the father; his daughter's surge of confidence had receded now that adults had taken command, and she gave only short answers in a tone of distracted timidity. At her prompting, the father and daughter released each other and stepped apart, allowing the medic to perform another diagnostic jutsu, this time on the girl, the results of which clearly satisfied the medic. She handed the girl another medicine phial, which was shyly taken and soon consumed. It was apparently a sedative of some type, as the girl relaxed within seconds before her eyelids began to droop and she rapidly fell into an emotionally-exhausted sleep as her father scooped her up into his arms. This seemed to be the cue for the medic to turn her questioning to Iruka, who tensed slightly as the strange stick was suddenly pointed near him (but not _at_ him, he noticed, similar to a weapon held ready but not aimed). «I'm sorry,» he replied, «but I'm afraid I don't speak your language, and I suspect you can't understand mine.»

«Fortunately, even if she can't, I can.» The father had laid his daughter on a couch and covered her with a light blanket, and was now sitting in an adjacent armchair. After a brief bit of the local language directed at the medic, he continued, «I've traveled rather extensively, and one of my longer expeditions had me living in Kyoto for several months. Relying on a phrasebook or retaining an interpreter for that long would have been less than practical, so I did my best to pick up Japanese.»

Iruka could only assume that 'Japanese' was the local term for the language of the Elemental Nations.

«Travelogues aside,» the man continued while gazing both at his wife and at something far in the distance beyond her, «Healer Haff said that were it not for your efforts, my wife likely would not have survived, and so on behalf of all of my family I offer my most sincere thanks. Incidentally, she wants your permission to perform a diagnostic scan to check you for any injuries or other damage.» Iruka nodded to the 'Healer', who performed another set of diagnostics before pulling out another phial of medicine and holding it out and speaking further. «She says you show signs of a mild concussion, which is what the potion is for, and a number of minor bruises and moderate fatigue. Her prescription is to drink the potion, rest, and let the bruises heal naturally, taking no further potions for at least three days to avoid unpleasant interactions. My advice would be to drink your potion and begin your resting by having a seat,» the man finished dryly, indicating another armchair.

Iruka sat as he was bid, glad for the rest after such chaos, the beginning of which he was going to need some quiet time to piece together at some point. He looked at the 'potion', seeing it was viscous and pale blue, contained in a handmade glass phial with a cork stopper - a somewhat archaic container, but given the use of terms like 'potion' and 'magic', these people might not have access to more modern technologies and jutsu knowledge, even if their local form of jutsu were clearly well-developed on their own. The important question was, could he trust this phial of an unknown substance, given by a strange foreigner using strange jutsu in a strange place? While both of the adults looking at him were clearly suspicious of him, he hadn't exactly arrived in the best of circumstances, so a lack of suspicion would have been more worrying. Regardless, the whole situation made no logical sense as anything but a surprise to these people: Iruka could think of no plausible scenario that would paint those presently around him as default hostiles. If they wanted to poison or drug him, there had been and would be far safer and easier opportunities to do so. Thinking this, he uncorked the phial and, while the contents smelled unpleasant, they didn't smell like any poison he knew, so he shrugged and drank his medicine.

The 'potion' was certainly not pleasantly-flavored, worse than field rations but at least better than Sakura's custom-made pills. Some of the grogginess Iruka had been feeling since the incident began to clear almost immediately, making him wonder about whether these medicines could be brought back to Konoha, as that kind of rapid curative could be potentially life-saving on the battlefield. Glancing back at his host and the medic, he could see the former scrutinizing him intently, while the latter just looked exasperated and somewhat bemused.

«Now that that's out of the way,» the father began, «Healer Haff's other question is one that I share: What can you tell us about what happened here? I would also add a related one of my own.» A civilian might have missed the man surreptitiously bringing his stick into a ready position. «Why were you in my house?»

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 **A/N: Yes, Iruka just saved Pandora Lovegood. Luna is by far my favorite Harry Potter character, and since I wanted Iruka to arrive a while before Harry starts Hogwarts anyway, Pandora's accident seemed like a good place to start.**

 **So, about this fic: This is going to be a long one, folks, though you may have guessed that from the "Book 0" at the top. My current plan is to update on a fortnightly basis, though I'm putting up two more chapters as part of the initial posting. If that update schedule changes, I'll note it in the chapter posted before the change and edit this A/N as well. On that heading, it will likely be at least a couple of years before I get through everything I have planned, though I intend to step up my release schedule significantly once I've finished the final chapter. For now, I'm keeping one year's worth of buffer to start with, in case of incapacity, writer's block, or Nargles.**

 **I intend this to be effectively a single-point-of-divergence AU. That said, a few things may be slightly different from how JKR portrayed them; this will generally be me doing my best to make sure everything makes sense. An unfortunate side-effect of transitioning a story from children's lit through to something more grown-up is that elements that were originally fun, whimsical silliness turn into plot holes. A not inconsiderable amount of my effort in writing this story has been filling those holes without diverging unnecessarily from canon.**

 **Iruka will not be a combat powerhouse in this story. He'll be easily capable of dealing with an average witch or wizard, but the major part of his influence will be through advice and guidance. Harry (and a number of other characters) will have a more involved mentor and advocate, and the Order will eventually benefit from the experience and knowledge of a veteran professional soldier.**

 **I'll try to avoid wall-of-text A/N in future chapters, but will occasionally use them to explain important things that I just can't find a place to handle in-story, and to answer questions that seem like they'd be of general interest.**

 **Many thanks to Akatsuki210 for putting up with me and for beta-reading my work. Also, many thanks to robst and MaiKusakabe for their stories "Harry Crow" and "The Colours of the World", respectively: The former inspired me to try and make everything make good sense (and is also easily the best HP fic I've ever read) and the latter helped inspire some of the structure of this story. Quatermass and his/her many fun crossover stories also provided inspiration. Further thanks go to Sinyk for inspiring my ASCII-Art scene-break dividers, and to White Squirrel for inspiring me to have some form of a table of contents. And, of course, thanks to all of the above and others for writing amazing stories that have provided me with countless hours of enjoyment.  
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 **Thanks for reading, and remember that your reviews can improve the quality of the story! Also, I'm mostly writing this because if I don't, nobody will, so if you like this idea (which is actually my response to a prompt I posted on DZ2's forum) please feel free to write up your own version! Just let me know if you do, so I can read it, right?**

 **My first fic recommendation is "Harry Crow" by robst - a novel-length AU that does an amazing job of characterization and story.**

 **Posted 21 May 2017**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Added ToC and updated acknowledgements.**


	2. 0-2: Questions and Answers

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Text inside «» is in Japanese.**

* * *

 _«Why were you in my house?»_

Iruka had to give his host credit for his self-control: The man's tone hadn't changed at all from when he had been politely translating the medic's instructions. His eyes, on the other hand, had taken on the intense focus that says 'answer quickly, answer honestly, and give me a reason not to get _very_ angry with you' while he had clearly readied his stick-tool for some purpose that likely wasn't the diagnostic or medical functions Iruka had seen thus far. Now the chuunin just had to hope that what little information he had about his strange arrival would be enough to placate his host, as he really didn't want to have to fight in his current state, especially with at least two civilians helpless nearby and no idea what his potential opponent(s) could do.

«I'm still trying to figure the answers out myself,» began Iruka, keeping his body language as non-threatening as possible. «I was overseeing a training session when one of my students attempted... _something_... and the next thing I knew I was in a strange place with an unfamiliar woman lying injured nearby. My training took over at that point, and thankfully I had an extended first-aid kit on me in case of training accidents. With the help of that girl - your daughter?» The man nodded. «I managed to stop the bleeding and suture some of the more serious cuts.»

«Suture? I'm not familiar with that term.»

«Closing and securing a wound by sewing it shut using sterile thread. It helps keep the wound closed and the edges properly aligned, to speed healing and reduce scarring,» Iruka replied.

«That explains the stitching Healer Haff was describing,» the man nodded. «You talk about having some sort of training that applied in this situation, and yet you didn't cast any healing spells - why not?»

This had Iruka pausing to think. While it may have been done clumsily, likely due to inexperience and/or using a language other than his native tongue, the man seemed to be using a classic information-gathering technique the Academy taught all its students: Get the subject to open up by asking about innocuous topics, then once they're already comfortable answering your questions, pivot to the more sensitive information. It took him a moment to formulate his response. «I've never been properly trained in your method of performing techniques, and medical jutsu of the methods I _am_ familiar with require more fine control than I've been able to manage. Thus, I've only trained in more mundane first-aid methods, with the goal of keeping the injured person from deteriorating or suffering further damage so that they can receive proper treatment from an expert.»

His host's eyebrows rose somewhat at that explanation. «Interesting. I'd be fascinated to discuss the differences in our... methods... later, but we seem to have gotten off-track. You're telling me that your sudden presence in my house is due to a freak accident, which just happens to coincide with my wife suffering some sort of mishap in one of her experiments?»

«To be honest, I can't guarantee that my arrival and her mishap were unrelated. It could well be that whatever sent me here contributed to this incident. If that is the case, I can only reiterate that this was purely accidental and offer my sincerest apologies for my part, however unwitting, in your wife's misfortune. Rest assured that when I find my way home, I will be having _words_ with the student I believe may have caused my inadvertent trespassing.» Iruka maintained eye contact throughout this statement, allowing his sincerity to shine through.

The man held Iruka's gaze for several more seconds before relaxing somewhat and putting away his stick-tool. He spoke briefly to Haff in their own language, before turning back to the chuunin. «I believe you. At worst, your presence here is an unfortunate accident, and perhaps your arrival is only related to my wife's mishap by Fate, or some higher power bringing someone well-prepared to help her at the exact moment she needed that help. Ah - I'm being terribly rude! We've been talking quite a bit and yet completely skipped over introductions! I am Xenophilius Lovegood, (or Lovegood Xenophilius, by the Japanese ordering of names) though you may call me Xeno. My daughter Luna Lovegood and my wife Pandora.» The now-named Xeno (apparently these people put personal names before family) gestured towards his wife and daughter as he named them. «I'll introduce you to them properly when they're awake and feeling better. And you are?»

«Iruka. Umino Iruka, by my ordering. A pleasure to meet you, Xeno-san.» The foreign name felt strange on his tongue as he smiled warmly and held his hand out to his host, who grasped it and firmly with an understandably strained smile of his own. «Perhaps we can continue our conversation later? It looks like the medics are ready to take your wife to the hospital.» Iruka nodded to where Pandora was laying, swathed in bandages, as the medics were packing their supplies back into satchels that appeared far too small to contain so much material. This could possibly be explained by some sort of seals, but what happened next was the real shocker.

With a wave of a stick, Pandora began to float up into the air, coming to hover at approximately waist-height. Iruka had only ever heard of levitation or gravity control in accounts of S-Rank shinobi, like Oonoki, or Tendo Pain. To see it used with such casual ease, and nobody treating it as anything unusual, meant that either these people were somehow much more powerful than their chakra suggested, or their jutsu had very different capabilities from those known in the Elemental Nations. It would appear that Iruka had a great deal to learn as soon as possible.

Xeno stood, then bent to scoop Luna into his arms, still asleep and wrapped in a blanket. «You should probably accompany us to Saint Mungo's, our hospital. Since you're not familiar with our language - English, by the way - I'll ask one of the Healers to accompany you through the Floo to avoid any problems due to mispronunciation.» At this, he turned and called to the medics, one of whom nodded and moved to stand with Iruka, who was by now back on his feet. The group of seven moved once more downstairs and towards the hearth, with Pandora still floating along between two medics, who clearly took great care navigating her down the spiral steps. A handful of powder once again kindled those strange green flames, with Pandora and her escorts being the first to crowd in. Both medics gripped the woman's clothing as one firmly called out the name of their hospital, causing all three to spin and vanish downward, as if they had somehow drilled through the floor. The third medic tugged at Iruka's arm, urged him into the hearth, and called out.

The flames actually felt quite pleasant, almost like a warm breeze. What followed, however, was significantly less pleasant. Iruka was pulled downwards, spinning violently as if caught in some tremendous vortex, and he strongly suspected that the medic's grip was the only thing keeping him from being roughly tossed out at some random point - something he'd rather avoid, as he had done quite enough housebreaking for one day. Looking out through the flames, he saw dozens of other hearths whipping past, each offering him a momentary glimpse of another room and adding to his picture of the strange country he'd been sent to.

The majority of the hearths looked out into domestic locations, though there seemed to be a few shops, a couple of restaurants and/or pubs, and one location Iruka strongly suspected would have drawn patronage from Jiraya-sama based on what the young ladies there were (and weren't) wearing. Taken together, the style of construction and furniture was moderately different from what he typically saw in the Elemental Nations, most notably in the far greater degree of ornamentation and wildly variable and frequently clashing use of color (though he noted that bold shades of blue, yellow, green, or red often dominated the color schemes). Those people he could see (aside from the one establishment) were predominantly dressed in floor-length robes and closed-toed footwear, with what appeared to be cloaks and tall conical hats hung near doorways.

After about fifteen seconds of dizzying travel, Iruka and his escort emerged in another hearth, with the chuunin reflexively using a quick burst of chakra to his feet to avoid pitching forwards from the momentum their journey seemed to have imparted. The two then walked out toward Pandora and the other medics, one of whom was speaking to a middle-aged receptionist. Turning around, Iruka watched as Xeno and Luna appeared as the medics had at his previous location, and noted that the hearth from which they had emerged was one of six lined up side-by-side along that wall. The remaining three walls of the room were mostly lined with chairs and benches, with a couple of breaks for doors and end tables. Even if the decor was different, the layout still said 'waiting room'.

A bit of movement drew Iruka's attention, and he froze in shock. There were a number of portraits on the walls of the waiting room, but that wasn't what startled him. His surprise came from the fact that the subjects of these portraits were all _moving_. Several were napping in their painted chairs, while others were audibly conversing with each other or with patrons. As he watched, a distinguished older woman turned and walked to the edge of her canvas, appearing in that of her neighbor as if she'd just walked into another room. It was so unbelievable that Iruka reflexively disrupted his chakra flow to release any genjutsu on him, but the scene before him remained unchanged. The strangeness and impossibility, it seemed, were going to continue to pile up.

The medics - 'Healers', Iruka reminded himself they were apparently called here - floated Pandora through one of the closer doors, with Xeno, Luna, and Iruka following them down a short corridor before being directed to a smaller waiting area while Pandora was taken into a nearby room for treatment. After several minutes of tense silence, Healer Haff stepped out and spoke briefly with Xeno, before returning to the treatment room. Xeno turned to Iruka, «Pandora's life is in no danger, thanks in part to your timely intervention, and the Healers don't expect any significant lasting damage, though they'll know more when they've finished treating her. Again, thank you for helping her. If not for you...» He trailed off with a distant look in his eyes. While seeming calm, the man held the same fragility Iruka had seen in others and felt in himself when loved ones were seriously injured. The ninja could only nod solemnly, acknowledging Xeno's thanks while respecting his delicate emotional state.

It was another forty minutes of waiting and anxiety before Healer Haff returned. One didn't need to speak the local language to know that the news she delivered was good, as an immense weight seemed to fall away from Xeno and some light had returned to his eyes when he turned to Iruka. «There will be some minor scarring, but Pandora will make a full recovery. The Healers are keeping her asleep for now, to let her body rest and heal, but they'll be lifting the charms in a couple of days, after which she should wake on her own when she's ready.» Xeno's smile of joy and relief was soon mirrored by Iruka's. «I find myself once again thanking you for your timely aid. It seems only right to offer you my assistance in return: Assuming Luna doesn't object, nor Pandora when she wakes, I'll put you up and help you arrange for passage home.»

«Even just helping me find my way home would be wonderful, but you don't owe me anything. I could hardly just stand by in that situation and do nothing.» Iruka's gaze turned to the sleeping Luna. «I was around your daughter's age when I lost both my parents, and I've taught quite a few orphans. That life is not something I would wish on anyone.»

«Well then,» here Xeno's smile turned wry, «by your own logic I simply must help you! After all, I myself have found myself floundering around in a foreign land without speaking their language, so why not save someone else that trouble?» The blond man's eyes sparkled with mirth.

Chuckling, Iruka shook his head, while he raised his estimate of his strangely-dressed translator's intelligence. «Okay, okay, you win.» At this point, he heard steady footsteps approaching down the corridor, so he decided to hold off on further conversation for the moment.

The man that stepped into the room a few seconds later was probably a few years older than Iruka, with hints of grey in his close-cropped black hair. He wasn't particularly tall, and had a build that Iruka associated with members of the Akimichi clan - heavyset, but moving in a way that spoke of muscle underlying the fat - with an unremarkable clean-shaven face and eyes that gave the room a practiced once-over as he reached the door. This reaction, along with garments that appeared to be a uniform complete with insignia, indicated an experienced soldier or law-enforcement officer. Given his status as an undocumented foreigner arriving under suspicious circumstances, Iruka could see either being the case. Since the man was alone, he was more likely to be law enforcement, and unlikely to be here to make an arrest (though if he _was_ here to arrest Iruka, the chuunin was ready to consider it an insult to his character and skills).

"Xenophilius Lovegood?" The man asked Xeno, who nodded. Another question produced another nod, before the man turned to Iruka. "Umino Iruka?" Iruka nodded in confirmation. «Auror Joseph Proudfoot. I've been sent to interview witnesses to today's incident and discuss our preliminary findings with Lovegood-san.» Proudfoot's accent was thicker than Xeno's, but still understandable. «Ordinarily we'd have sent someone from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, but I'm the only one in the department that speaks Japanese,» he said with a shrug and a 'what can you do?' expression on his face.

Proudfoot turned back to Xeno and the two spoke briefly in English, before Xeno gently woke his daughter, his voice soft and reassuring in tone. Luna grabbed her father in a fierce, needy hug for at least a minute, then released him and dashed over to Iruka to give him a hug as well, speaking what were likely profuse thanks in rapid English. Iruka, meanwhile, gave the standard male response to baffling speech by a female - smile and nod. This seemed to satisfy the girl, and she soon returned to her father's side and turned back to Proudfoot.

Proudfoot smiled kindly and sat in the chair next to Luna, pulling a roll of parchment and a quill pen out of his long open-fronted robe. Iruka was again astonished as both items floated into a position beside man and child, the quill's nib coming to hover just above the top of the parchment. The man spoke briefly in an authoritative voice (with his and Luna's names being the only parts Iruka understood), before engaging Luna in a long conversation. Iruka simply watched, as did Xeno, for the fifteen minutes the interview lasted, while the quill scratched away on the parchment, somehow writing its unfamiliar script despite lacking any apparent source of ink, presumably transcribing what was being said.

Once Luna's interview was finished and she had once again curled up in her father's lap, Proudfoot turned to Iruka, putting away the roll of parchment and bringing forth two more, along with a small (and very old-looking) calligraphy brush and a brass clip, the latter of which he attached to the quill. These writing materials were set hovering beside the officer(?) and chuunin, and Proudfoot began: «Auror Joseph Proudfoot, interviewing witness Umino Iruka regarding the events of 27th March 1990 at the Rook, Ottery St. Catchpole, residence of the Lovegood family. Interview conducted in the waiting area of the Emergency ward of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, 5:35, PM 27 March 1990. Interview begins: Please state your name, occupation, and place of residence.»

«Umino Iruka, teacher, citizen of Hi no Kuni, resident of Konohagakure no Sato.»

Proudfoot looked confused for a moment, but pressed on. «Please explain, in your own words, how you came to be in the Lovegood residence, and the actions you took as a result.»

Having had more time to process the day's events, Iruka was able to answer more completely now than he had when Xeno questioned him. «We had the students in the school's training field, doing basic jutsu training, when a student whom I cannot name without parental permission attempted something other than the jutsu being taught. I didn't recognize the jutsu he was attempting, and suspect it may have even been an experiment. Regardless, his attempt caused a serious mishap of a type I've never even heard of before: I felt a strange pulling from behind my navel, then found myself spun violently while moving at tremendous speed, with the directions of both spin and movement changing erratically. There were impacts of some sort, flashes of heat, cold, light, darkness, and other sensations that are difficult to categorize. When it finally stopped, after a period of perhaps fifteen to twenty seconds, I was in the Lovegood home. Luna-san was screaming, which managed to cut through my disorientation enough to recognize that Pandora-san was seriously injured. I am trained in emergency first aid, and had a well-stocked kit in my possession in case any of my students were injured during training, so I immediately moved to render assistance to Pandora-san.» From there, Iruka continued to recount the afternoon's events until the Healers' arrival, at which point Proudfoot indicated he could stop.

«Thank you for your cooperation, Umino-san. Interview ends.» At this the man reached out and began reclaiming his writing supplies. Iruka noted that the calligraphy brush had written his words in kanji, albeit somewhat clumsily, while the quill had written more of the unfamiliar characters. Proudfoot then spoke to Xeno for a couple minutes, before nodding to all present and departing.

A polite cough from Xeno drew Iruka's attention. «I spoke with Luna during your interview, and with her agreement I would like to offer you a place to stay while you find your feet in this country. Given the fact that you landed here unexpectedly, I suspect you don't have much money on you, and what you do have is likely not in local currencies. Add in culture shock and a language barrier, and you've got significant obstacles to overcome before you can claim to be reasonably self-sufficient, especially if you're not trained in magic.»

As much as Iruka's pride (and decades of ingrained shinobi paranoia) rebelled at the thought of being so dependent on a near-stranger, he knew that Xeno's logic was sound. If he tried to make it on his own, he'd likely be sleeping in an alleyway and resorting to petty crime to obtain even basic necessities - not a situation conducive to doing research, even if you don't end up arrested or dead. He stood and bowed formally. «Thank you for your hospitality, Xeno-san, though I insist that you keep a record of any expenditures on my behalf so that I can pay you back you once I'm able to obtain adequate funds myself.»

Xeno's grin only grew, «Splendid! The investigators from the Ministry should be done and gone in another hour, so let's get some dinner here then head back to the Rook and get you settled in. I must confess to an ulterior motive regarding dinner, though,» he whispered with a wink, «Pandora is such a delightful cook that I haven't really taken the time to learn more than simple basics.»

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 **A/N: Regarding Japanese terms vs. English terms, I'll probably be using them somewhat interchangeably. It will generally depend upon what flows the best while being most understandable.**

 **Both Healer Haff and Auror Proudfoot are based at least in part upon friends of mine - she is a medical professional (and has been dedicated to helping others for as long as I've known her) and he's a half-Japanese multiple-black-belt who, while looking a little chubby, I've seen doing handstand pushups. On those few occasions where I make use of an OC, or where I use a canon character that's not actually described or fleshed out in the books/movies, I'll tend to vaguely base them on people I know.**

 **Fic recommendation: "One Eye, Full of Wisdom" by MrBright01 - an in-progress fic that takes one of my favorite aspects of Naruto (the tricky, strategic nature of the fights) and runs with it.**

 **Posted 21 May 2017**

 **Updated 4 June 2017: Xeno now properly assumes Iruka is from Japan, and Iruka has never heard of Japanese (no idea what Elementals call the language)**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Noted differing quotes for Japanese speech**


	3. 0-3: Aftermath

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises (aside from a collection of books/manga/DVDs).**

 **Text inside «» is in Japanese.**

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It was late evening by the time the three returned to the Rook, as Iruka had been told to address it. Xeno had made certain that he could pronounce it well enough to Floo back on his own, following directly behind Luna and with Xeno bringing up the rear to listen for mishaps. Dinner had been pleasant enough, albeit much heavier than typical fare in the Elemental Nations with significantly more meat and grease and less vegetables. Thankfully Xeno had ordered on Iruka's behalf, and what the three of them had eaten was comparatively lighter than some of the other diners' meals. There were also no chopsticks to be found, but the function of the utensils available was obvious.

Conversation had been minimal and the topics light, mostly Xeno describing the unfamiliar foods being served or pointing out someone he recognized and sharing some bit of trivia about them, even if Iruka couldn't make heads nor tails of much of it. Here too, the people were dressed mostly in robes, with only a handful wearing other garments. Iruka's attire certainly drew its fair share of looks, but many simply shook their heads, particularly those who seemed to recognize his dinner companions.

Xeno stepped from the Rook's kitchen hearth a few seconds after Iruka, and a quick wave of his stick caused the soot on all three of them (and the floor) to disappear. He spoke briefly with Luna, who nodded and headed upstairs after giving her father a quick peck on the cheek. «It's been a long day for her, and I felt it best that she not spend more time looking at reminders of what happened earlier.» Xeno spoke as they walked back upstairs into the damaged room. «Thankfully, the investigators didn't make any more of a mess of things, so it shouldn't be too difficult to put to rights.» Iruka took this opportunity to get a more clear-headed look at the scene of the accident, and saw that the blast damage seemed to be centered at or near where he remembered arriving, near the edge of the room next to a now-shattered window. Xeno waving his stick-tool again had shards of glass flying up into the window's frame, reassembling individual panes as the cracks between them sealed up and disappeared as if they had never existed. More waves began repairing pieces of furniture and decorations and moving them back to their proper places, vanishing the various discarded items used in rendering aid to Pandora, and even cleaning up some of the stains and scorch-marks. Within a couple of minutes, the room had been largely restored, with only some persistent scorch marks and a large blood stain to attest to the violence of Pandora Lovegood's misadventure.

Now that things were more as they should be, Iruka could see that this was a living room, one that gave a strong sense of comfort and welcome. The decorations were a strange mix - garish and gaudy trinkets, items whose aesthetic styles varied so wildly that he suspected they came from the travels Xeno had referenced, simple and tasteful decorations like a small vase of flowers, beautiful and elegant little sculptures of spun glass, and the kind of crude handcrafted artworks produced by young children everywhere (though these clearly showed a marked growth of skill, suggesting that Luna was a budding young artist in the making, and depicted animals like nothing the scholarly chuunin had ever even heard of). Where once lay only bare and battered floorboards at the center of the explosion, there was now a large, complex, and well-worn desk built of dark wood. The worst scorch mark visible in the room marred the desktop beneath the remains of a blotting pad that was clearly beyond repair even with these seemingly-miraculous jutsu. Several books in an adjoining bookshelf likewise still showed scars from the accident, their spines and covers deeply scorched or gouged.

As Iruka was examining the room, Xeno had stepped out of the room briefly, and now returned with a large bottle that gave off a strong acrid smell when he unstoppered it. He poured some of it over the blood stain on the floor, then waved his stick again and set a scrub brush briskly working at the stain. «Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover,» he explained. «The other dirt was easy enough to remove, but blood is magically active, so it's best to use a proper cleaning agent if you want to be certain of success. Doubly so when unknown magic occurred while the blood was still fresh - no telling what could have seeped in,» he scowled briefly, «and there have been enough unexpected magical reactions in this house for quite some time already today.» While Iruka may not have had any knowledge of this 'magic', almost every shinobi knew from long experience just how difficult it could be to remove a set-in blood stain with ordinary washing. Apparently they resisted more extraordinary cleaning methods as well.

While the brush continued its work unsupervised (something that made Iruka somewhat uncomfortable, but he had to trust in his host's abilities until he had more information), Xeno beckoned Iruka back to the kitchen, and bade him take a seat as he went about making tea. Even if the methods and flavor were slightly different, a cup of hot tea in his hands was still a relief - an island of familiarity in an ocean of strangeness. It soothed his frayed nerves after a long, tiring, _weird_ day.

«So, Iruka-san,» Xeno began about halfway through their first cups, «you mentioned being from Hi no Kuni. Where is that located, generally?»

Iruka wondered just how far from home he was. «It's largely along the southern coast of the Elemental Nations, between Kaze no Kuni and Mizu no Kuni, albeit mostly surrounded by smaller countries.»

Xeno's brows furrowed. «None of those terms are places I've heard of. Which island is this on? Which prefecture?»

«Hi no Kuni is part of the mainland, Xeno-san. Mizu no Kuni is the only major country composed of islands.»

«Iruka-san, Japan is _entirely_ composed of islands.»

«I'm afraid I've never heard of 'Japan' before today.»

«It's the only country I know of where this is the dominant language.»

Iruka's mouth opened and closed several times at this, as his brain tried to process the new information and figure out how this could be possible. Perhaps this 'Japan' country was just beyond the Elemental Nations, and thus spoke their language? But then, why wouldn't knowledge of the Elemental Nations have filtered out to wherever this was? It was well within the lifetime of every adult he'd encountered that the Fourth Great Shinobi War took place, and even if Madara's and the Juubi's attacks weren't felt this far away, people tend to notice things like the moon turning into a giant Sharingan and trapping them in an idyllic genjutsu for several minutes. Finally he managed to squeak out, «Do you have any world maps?»

Xeno nodded and waved his stick again, and soon a globe floated its way into the kitchen, bobbing slightly in the air as it came over to the table before settling between the two men. Iruka frowned slightly as he looked at the continents shown, and that frown only deepened as he slowly rotated the globe, searching for any familiar points of reference. After several complete rotations, he could see only two possibilities: Either these people had incredibly detailed and thorough maps that were somehow completely wrong, or this was somehow an entirely different world from the one he knew. Given what he had seen and heard, the latter option seemed far more likely; it didn't look like he was getting home by conventional means.

«Xeno-san, I don't recognize anything on this globe. Unless it was produced by a particularly imaginative cartographer, it may be that the mishap that sent me here was some sort of time-space jutsu. If that's true, returning home won't be as simple as locating my destination and booking passage.»

«Well then, let me amend my previous offer to include helping you learn English and helping you get settled here.» the blonde gave him a warm smile «Your return will likely require an extended period of research, which means you'll need to establish yourself at least for a while. When Pandora is well again, she may be able to help somewhat in your research, particularly since she was trying to develop an improvement or alternative to the Floo, so her experiments may well be connected in some way with your arrival here.»

«That would be a great help, yes, though even with immersion training it will likely take me quite some time to pick up enough English to speak on technical matters.»

«Not necessarily; most of my knowledge of Japanese was acquired in less than a month. There is a potion called the Linguanova Libation that speeds things up a great deal. You know how young children pick up languages far more quickly, easily, and completely than adults?» Iruka nodded. «The Libation temporarily reactivates that faculty, greatly speeding language learning, though the individual's intelligence and aptitude for languages still play a role. Still, the average adult is far more mentally-developed than a young child, and that added intellect means that with immersion and the potion, it rarely takes more than a month or two to become reasonably fluent, especially for a diligent student.»

Finishing his tea, Xeno stood. «And now that it appears we have both finished our current refreshments, I would suggest turning in for the night. No offense, Iruka-san, but you look half dead with fatigue. It has been quite a trying day, and I suspect we will both be better off for getting a good night's sleep. Come, let me show you our guest room.»

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 **A/N: Short chapter, I know; this will probably be about the shortest chapter in the story, actually. I prefer to break my chapters where the story makes sense, even if that causes a bit of variability in length.**

 **Fic recommendation: "Flowers of Antimony" by Lady Norbert - a Fullmetal Alchemist fic that takes place after the Promised Day, the first fic of the completed 'Elemental Chess Trilogy'. All three fics do an amazing job of capturing the characters and the feel of the setting, to the point where they feel like Arakawa-sensei herself could have written them.**

 **Posted 21 May 2017**

 **Updated 4 June 2017: Xeno's offer to put Iruka up longer-term**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Noted different quotes for Japanese speech**


	4. 0-4: Recovery

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Text inside «» is in Japanese.**

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Every shinobi that bothers to train is quite accustomed to waking up rested but aching. This was so familiar that it took Iruka several moments to register the distinctly unfamiliar room before he remembered the previous day's events and how he came to be in the guest room of the Rook, home of the Lovegood family. Now that his mind was well-rested and not busy with more urgent matters, he considered the fact that he was in a world little like his own, with his prospects of returning home uncertain at best, especially in the immediate future. He knew that at least some of his students and colleagues would be distinctly unhappy about his unwilling absence, and Naruto (he called his favorite student Hokage-sama or Nanadaime-sama only in official circumstances) would likely be frantically trying to find him or at least confirm if he was safe and well. Unfortunately, even sending a message back was beyond his current ability. If he'd ever signed one of the major summoning contracts, there might be options, but his chakra reserves had never been deep enough for summoning to be particularly useful. In any case, he'd have to do his best to find his way back from here while those back in Konoha looked for him by their own methods, and hope that between the two there would _be_ a way back that didn't end with his foot in Suna and his head in Kumo. Space-time ninjutsu, when they went wrong, tended to go _very_ wrong _very messily_ ; Iruka had been extraordinarily lucky on that account.

For now, his priorities would need to revolve around adapting to life in this new world and establishing himself enough to be able to research a way home: Get clothing, toiletries, and other such necessities. Learn the language, the culture, the politics and history, and everything he could of their form of jutsu. Find some form of employment and a place to live that wasn't dependent on the generosity of others. It was a daunting list.

Iruka rose to begin his day; he'd never finish a task without starting on it, after all. Putting on the garments Xeno had loaned him (the two men were close enough to the same size and the robes loose-fitting enough that they fit reasonably well, even if they did restrict his movement more than he would have liked), he took the stairs down to the washroom for his morning ablutions. Rested and refreshed he made his way to the ground floor, marveling at how bright and cheerful the Rook's interior felt in spite of having so few windows. A sharp crack outside the front door drew his attention as he stood in the kitchen, followed shortly by the front door opening to admit Xeno, carrying a paper bag that smelled strongly of fried food. The growl Iruka's stomach gave in response drew a quiet chuckle from his host, who set the bag on the kitchen table, turning towards the stairs. «If you could begin setting the table, I'll see if I can begin the arduous process of waking my daughter. For all the energy Luna has, she is anything but a morning person. Don't be offended if she doesn't register your presence until after breakfast.» It was at this point that Iruka realized that the younger man was still wearing his shoes, and casting his mind back, he recalled both Luna and Pandora wearing shoes when he had arrived the previous day, suggesting that shod feet indoors weren't out of the ordinary in this household.

After indicating which dishes would be required and where they could be found, Xeno headed upstairs. Iruka was just placing the last of the teacups as he returned and set a kettle heating water for tea. While waiting for his tea and his daughter, the younger man began pulling what appeared to be miniature containers of food out of the bag, before tapping each with his stick-tool and causing it to grow to a more reasonable size. A bleary-eyed Luna arrived just as the water finished heating, sporting pink pajamas adorned with horned horses vaguely similar to kirin.

Virtually everything in the breakfast was fried - the eggs, the fish, the thin strips of fatty cured meat, the potatoes, even the tomatoes. Iruka ate at least a little of everything, but kept his portion sizes relatively small; until he could find somewhere to train and keep himself in shape, he'd have to watch his caloric intake or risk ballooning like Mitarashi Anko had in recent years (though judging by the couple of times he'd sparred with her, it hadn't diminished her skills or her sadistic streak). Xeno informed his lodger that he had already placed an order for several doses of Linguanova Libation while he was out getting breakfast, and that it would likely arrive some time in the next few days. For today, they would be traveling to some place called "Diagon Alley" to shop for some clothing and other essentials for Iruka; clearly his mind had taken a similar direction to his guest's this morning.

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Once everyone was fed and in clothing suitable to leave the house (though it had apparently taken some convincing by Xeno to persuade Luna that her pajamas were _not_ suitable for such), they once again departed by Floo. This time, they emerged into a dark, dingy pub whose patrons did not all look entirely reputable. Even on such a sunny day, very little light was entering through the filthy windows, and the smoky oil lamps that tried to illuminate the room were simply not up to the task. It was then that Iruka realized that he hadn't seen any signs of electricity or combustion engines anywhere; it would seem that this world was significantly behind the Elemental Nations technologically. Perhaps their jutsu largely eliminated the need for such things?

Xeno led his guest and daughter out the back of the pub, into a small alleyway enclosed on all sides by brick walls and occupied by several trash cans. Smiling slightly at Iruka's expression of confusion and moderate distaste, he reached out with his stick and tapped one of the bricks three times. The brick in question shuddered and retreated into the wall, with those around it immediately following suit or pivoting away, creating a rapidly-widening opening in the wall. «Welcome,» he said grinning as a doorway formed, «to Diagon Alley.»

The sight that greeted Iruka as the three stepped through the archway was certainly spectacular: People of all ages bustling about a winding street lined with strange shops, most of whose signs were utterly incomprehensible (though one read «Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.» and had another stick-tool, a "wand" apparently, on a cushion in the front window). While some of the shops' purpose was discernible (an herbalist, a bookstore), some were confusing or outright nonsensical (if you can clean a room with a wave of your 'wand', why the fancy brooms?).

The street itself was narrow, and paved with cobblestones, but it was the buildings that really drew the eye. Whatever architect(s) had designed them clearly did not believe in right angles, and if any wall was truly vertical it was likely by accident or coincidence rather than by design. Many of the structures were painted in color schemes that clashed utterly with their neighbors, and decoration skewed heavily towards the gaudy and ostentatious. While some of the brass, bronze, silver, copper, and gilded fittings and ornamentation were polished to a shine, there was still an overall sense of slight griminess to many buildings, and all showed clear signs of being decades (if not centuries) old. It was impressive, surreal, whimsical, and just the slightest bit ominous in the overall impression it generated in him.

As Xeno led them towards their first stop, Iruka caught sight of an imposing building of white marble towering over its portion of the Alley. On either side of its large bronze double-doors, dressed in scarlet and gold uniforms, stood a pair of creatures like nothing Iruka had ever seen. Short of stature, but with long fingers, toes, nose, and pointed ears, their dark eyes watched the passing humans with keen intelligence. «Goblins.» His attention snapped back to his host/guide at the unfamiliar word. «Fierce, proud warriors and master silversmiths, they operate Gringotts, the bank for Magical Britain. They're not overly fond of humans, but given the way many humans treat them it's hardly surprising. Our current Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has been especially disrespectful towards goblins, and indeed all non-humans and part-humans, though his Senior Undersecretary makes him look a paragon of tolerance by comparison...» Thus began Iruka's first lesson on the peoples, cultures, and politics of this new world.

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After several hours of shopping, the trio returned to the Leaky Cauldron (the pub through which they had arrived) for a lunch of sandwiches and fried potatoes. Trying several of the soft (or softer) beverages available, he found butterbeer too sweet for his tastes but gillywater quite refreshing, especially as a complement to the relatively heavy local cuisine.

Aside from toiletries and other miscellaneous items, Iruka had selected a complete wardrobe, with assistance from the store staff and translation by Xeno. With black robes vetoed by his translator («I'll explain back at the Rook»), he'd stuck with a color scheme of mostly earth tones, dark blues, and deep forest greens, with the cut of the garments being a compromise between his desires for quiet unencumbered movement and for an appearance that wouldn't mark him as a blatant outsider. Even if he couldn't understand the muttered words, it had been clear that some of those walking about in finer clothing were not at all fond of those walking around in garments closer to what Iruka was accustomed to. That, combined with what Xeno had told him about the current government and its treatment of other intelligent species, and it painted a picture of a fairly insular society, which meant that he needed to learn to blend in if he wanted to be able to function smoothly in this country.

When Iruka had asked about obtaining a wand for himself, Xeno shook his head. «I would recommend waiting somewhat before that. You would likely find it easiest to work with Ollivander if you didn't need a translator. Also, until you learn to do without them, most spells require incantations which tend to be based on other languages, and trying to learn multiple languages with the Linguanova Libation can complicate matters.» A slight wry smirk appeared on his face as he said more quietly, «It can also attract or worsen Wrackspurt infestations; just look at Bartemius Crouch, one of the more serious cases I've seen.» He resolved to ask his host later about this Crouch, and just what a Wrackspurt was...

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Upon returning to the Rook, Xeno returned their purchases to their original size, and went to handle several chores and errands around the house while Iruka sorted his new belongings and found places for them in the guest room. That task finished, he sought out his host, finding him with his daughter at the kitchen table surrounded by scraps of parchment and _moving_ photographs. At his polite cough, the younger man started slightly before looking up. «Ah, Iruka, my apologies! I was just getting a little layout work done; I often bring it home to get Luna's input. Her eye for aesthetics is admittedly better than my own, so those editions she helps with tend to come out looking far better. It's a magazine, you see, the Quibbler - wholly owned and operated by yours truly. My circulation is small, but the readers far more discerning than those who rely solely on the Daily Prophet for their news. Anyway, I'm nattering. You had something to ask?»

Iruka had to take a moment to get his brain back into its previous stance after the blast of enthusiasm from Xeno. «Yes, I was hoping there was somewhere nearby where I could exercise a bit, a field or meadow perhaps? A large forest clearing would actually be ideal, since I tend to prefer the quiet and solitude when exercising.» He really wasn't certain how, or even if, his hosts should find out about his abilities. While they were friendly and trustworthy, they were still foreign civilians and a lifetime of shinobi training made secrecy an automatic response.

«I'm certain we can find a good spot nearby; we're on mostly open ground, but it's fairly hilly. Why don't Luna and I accompany you to look for a suitable place? That way we'll be able to find you if we need to, not to mention that Luna and her mother know the land around here better than I do from their walks together.» Xeno turned to speak to his daughter, who promptly lit up with a smile reminiscent of another blonde of Iruka's acquaintance and nodded energetically before grabbing her father's left hand with her right and Iruka's right hand with her left and practically dragging the two out the door to the amusement of both adults.

As they stepped out, Iruka got his first good look at the Rook and the area around it. The home itself was a vaguely cylindrical tower of black stone. The door was of black-painted wood studded with iron nails and with an eagle-shaped iron ornament in the center around eye level. Overall, the severely drab and ominous exterior contrasted wildly with the warm, welcoming, _colorful_ interior. There were sources of color, however, in the gardens around the house. Other than grass, almost none of the plants looked familiar, and some (such as the bush sporting orange fruit floating _above_ its branches) were downright bizarre. Looking around, he found himself at the top of a small but steep hill, and saw that Xeno was quite correct in calling the area hilly. There seemed to be almost no significant chunks of level ground anywhere nearby. The ground itself was slightly rocky, covered predominantly in grass and low scrub, with the occasional tree scattered about. Farther away, he could make out a few isolated structures, one large cluster of buildings that was likely the town center, and several herds of fluffy white livestock being tended by humans and dogs.

Luna pulled her two captives down the winding path to and through a gate in a low garden fence. What followed was a somewhat meandering journey up, down, and around several of the nearby hills that left Xeno puffing for air. Eventually, the trio came to a small glen.

It was, in a word, beautiful. A trickling brook fed into and subsequently drained out of a large pool, perhaps three meters across and two deep, along one side of the glen. Nearby stood a small copse of trees (though to someone raised among the towering forests of Konoha, they barely counted as such), and the low grass was otherwise interrupted only by a few small boulders that ranged from knee- to chest-high. The stiff breeze that had whipped at their clothing much of the trip was more gentle here, and other than Xeno's deep breaths, only the quiet sounds of nature could be heard. In no direction could he see any signs of human activity or habitation, meaning this was likely a near-ideal location to train, at least his fitness and chakra. He'd have to leave the more destructive jutsu training for later and elsewhere, though - this place was much too peaceful to taint with combat practice.

Luna, meanwhile, was skipping happily through the grass, occasionally pausing to twirl about or dance to some imagined tune. It pleased Iruka greatly to see her doing so well after the previous day's events, and he could see his thoughts mirrored in his host's expression. «The resilience of the young.» Xeno's comment drew an agreeing nod from the chuunin. Both men moved to sit on some nearby boulders to relax and watch Luna play, as all three drank in the peace of the small glen in their own ways.

After twenty minutes or so, Luna skipped back over, addressed Iruka by name, and spouted a long stream of English that Xeno chucklingly translated as a verbal tour of all the highlights of the glen, descriptions of several of her walks here with her mother, the games she liked to play here, a number of rather fantastical accounts of creatures she claimed to have interacted with in the area, and some rather clear directions back to the Rook and to other local places of interest (he wasn't sure how much of the clarity was from Luna and how much was from Xeno's translation). Once the verbal deluge subsided, she pulled the two men to their feet and led them to the top of the tallest surrounding hill, where Iruka could clearly see the Rook on its own hilltop about a kilometer away, as well as a decent view of the surrounding countryside. Both Lovegoods then collaborated to point out the homes of several of their 'magical' neighbors, including a bizarrely-built house that clearly used this magic to remain standing and apparently belonged to the family of Luna's closest friend. Said friend was the primary topic of Luna's ongoing narration as the three made their way back to the Rook by a significantly more direct (though, Iruka noted, less scenic) route.

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Deciding to give Xeno and Luna some time alone as a father and daughter, Iruka returned to the glen at a brisk (but still civilian-speed) jog. Once there, however, he picked his pace up, running laps and increasing his speed somewhat each time he passed the pool until he was sprinting full-tilt. Maintaining his speed for two full laps, he then slowed back to a jog to cool down, and switched over to pushups, situps, and other calisthenics, all done on top of the chilly water of the pool to work his chakra control at the same time. Finally, once virtually every muscle in his body was crying out with exhaustion, he settled into a lotus position on the water and began to meditate. Iruka began to meticulously clear his mind of thought and emotion, painstakingly reviewing his memories of the past twenty-four hours to look for anything he might have missed in the moment and examine everything from an outside perspective. It was an exercise he'd been taught early in his genin career by his jounin-sensei to help him become more mindful and thoughtful and curb his tendency towards rashness that could get him hurt in the field.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Iruka jogged up to the garden gate of the Rook, painting the sky in a spectacular array of colors and adding new dimension to the already lovely view from the hilltop. Opening the front door, he came upon Xeno talking with an unfamiliar woman in the Rook's kitchen.

She was somewhat short, only coming up to Xeno's shoulders, somewhat overweight, and appeared to be around Iruka's age, with slight lines on her face and some minor fading in the color of her otherwise fiery-red curls. Her dress was modest in its cut, with a mildly faded floral pattern and signs of wear and repeated mending that suggested frugality, possibly due to limited finances. Next to her, on the table, was a covered basket from which came the scents of fresh bread and other foods, all of which smelled delightful. Hearing his entrance, she turned, her surprised expression melting into a polite smile with a hint of suspicion and apprehension.

«Ah, Iruka-san!» Xeno called with a jovial smile, «This is Molly Weasley, our nearest neighbor, and the mother of Luna's friend Ginevra that we heard so much about this afternoon. Her husband works for the Ministry and heard about Pandora's accident, and she was kind enough to bring dinner for us!» He then turned back to his latest guest, and given the use of his name Iruka presumed carried out the introduction in the other direction.

Much of Molly's suspicion disappeared at this, and her smile became warmer, though she still seemed to take a moment to look Iruka over with an appraising eye, perhaps judging whether he was some disreputable character taking advantage of the Lovegoods. He wasn't insulted, of course - he'd have wondered the same thing in her place, and that was without accounting for his profession as a shinobi. She stepped closer, dipping in a bow-like gesture and speaking with a somewhat more formal tone, which Xeno translated as her thanks for his aid to Pandora. Seemingly satisfied by Iruka's accepting nod and slight bow in return, she turned back to Xeno. A few more words were exchanged, her expression becoming one of concern and sympathy as she patted his hand gently before acknowledging both men and leaving via the Floo.

* * *

 **A/N: So, the first of my fortnightly updates. Thanks to everyone so far that has followed, favorited, and/or reviewed.**

 **One reviewer asked if I intend this to be a fix-fic. My response is along the lines of: "To a degree." I've long felt that the heroes won in canon by being luckier, more determined, and possibly slightly less incompetent than the villains, but they only barely won and it was at terrible cost. Trouble is, much of that cost and hardship was frankly unnecessary, and was more due to information hoarding and poor planning. Iruka's influence won't fix everything; there will still be dark times and struggles, but things will go at least somewhat better for our heroes than in canon.**

 **If the pacing here seems a bit slow, my apologies. Unfortunately, dropping Iruka into an entirely foreign world leaves him needing to do a lot of stuff to get settled in, and on the "show, don't tell" rule of thumb I'm trying to do more than just hand-wave most of it. Iruka's first visit to Hogwarts comes in chapter ten, at the end of Book Zero, and the pace of events will pick up noticeably after that.**

 **Fic recommendation: "Faery Heroes" by Silently Watches - completed response to Paladeus's 'Champions of Lilith' challenge, with a hefty dose of "Larceny, Lechery, and Luna Lovegood" by Rorschach's Blot**

 **Posted 4 June 2017**

 **Updated 18 June 2017: Added scene break dividers. Apparently FFNet stripped out what I was using, leaving the whole chapter without its intended scene breaks.**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Nodded different quotes for Japanese speech**


	5. 0-5: Awakening

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Brief A/N: Apparently FFNet stripped my scene breaks out of Chapter 4 after I uploaded it. Sorry to anyone that felt it jumped around too much without signposting. This has now been fixed.**

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After dinner Xeno and Luna did a bit more layout work, with Iruka acting as something of an assistant or gopher while his host occasionally commented on the contents or subjects of the articles, photos, and illustrations. Much of it ranged from the bizarre to the outright nonsensical, though he suspected part of that might be a lack of context. Satisfied with their work for the evening, Luna went off to read by the living room fireplace, while Xeno invited Iruka to play a game called "chess" that was similar enough to shogi that he was able to pick it up reasonably quickly and provide an adequate opponent for a couple of matches. The introduction of the pieces names provided an explanation for the name of the Lovegoods' home, the structure and the playing piece showing obvious similarity. Xeno also mentioned that most wizards tended to prefer a version called "wizard's chess" in which the pieces moved themselves and acted out their defeat of opposing pieces, but that he didn't generally use the set he owned because the brutality, simulated though it was, tended to distress his daughter.

As they played, Xeno continued his guest's crash course regarding his new country of residence, ranging between culture, history, government, lifestyle, geography, wildlife, and other various topics. The meandering nature of the discussion was unconventional, but while Iruka would never use this style in his classroom, neither would he call it ineffective. One topic his host brought up but could not elaborate on was "Muggles" - the majority of this world's humanity who were not only incapable of magic, but ignorant of its very existence, a feat that impressed Iruka considerably. Apparently they had advanced far beyond magicals in their technology, though Xeno confessed ignorance of the details of both that and their culture. This, it would seem, was something Iruka would have to investigate further on his own when the opportunity arose; another entry on his to-do list.

The other major point of interest and concern was the relatively recent insurgency this country had suffered. A self-styled "Dark Lord" whose name Iruka would have to pry from Xeno when Luna wasn't present had, with the help of his followers, attempted a coup against the magical government using predominantly guerrilla and terrorist tactics. Xeno's description of the uniform of those followers, so-called "Death Eaters", explained why he had insisted that Iruka not select plain black robes. Given the obviously dark nature of the subject matter, the chuunin steered the conversation onto happier topics. He could wait until Pandora had recovered and Xeno's mood consequently improved to get more information.

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Iruka's second full day at the Rook passed with a couple hours of training and the rest of his time spent largely helping around the house where he could while learning more about Magical Britain. Once he'd been instructed on the use of the more unconventional features of the kitchen equipment, he'd even made sure to take over cooking so that Xeno wouldn't have to keep going out for food. Thankfully, breakfast was already taken care of by the ample leftovers from the dinner brought over by Molly Weasley, which could have easily fed twice the current population of the Rook. Then again, considering she apparently had seven children, six of them boys, she was probably accustomed to cooking enormous portions. It would also explain the indications of a strained budget, but make her generosity to a neighbor all the more impressive.

By evening, though, both of his hosts were beginning to show subtle signs of stress and a little melancholy. While they were clearly trying to keep their spirits up, Iruka could see the hidden sadness in their smiles; he'd smiled like that a lot in his youth. Pandora's absence was clearly starting to weigh them down, and only her return would make their smiles fully real again.

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During his third breakfast in Britain, Iruka was startled by the sudden appearance of a sleek brown owl flying in through an open kitchen window in broad daylight. He tensed automatically; for shinobi, unexpected events could signal imminent attack. It didn't help that both Lovegoods' attention immediately focused on the owl and the small roll of parchment tied to its left leg. Luna hopped up and filled a saucer with water, also grabbing a small tray full of what appeared to be small bits of jerky. These were placed on the table in front of the owl where it had landed on the back of a chair, while Xeno removed the parchment and unrolled it, tension clear in every line of his body.

The younger man's apprehension melted into clear relief and not a little eagerness as he spoke to Luna, whose reaction mirrored her father's. «They'll be lifting the spells this afternoon,» he addressed Iruka, «and if all goes as expected she should be home by dinner tonight.»

«That's wonderful news, Xeno-san!» Iruka beamed. «I look forward to meeting her under more pleasant circumstances.» He observed, meanwhile, the owl greedily drinking from the dish of water and occasionally swallowing a bit of meat. Apparently they used owls instead of hawks as messenger birds here, which struck him as somewhat odd. After all, owls were often nocturnal, while humans preferred the day, and he recalled a student's report on messenger hawks noting that owls, while far stealthier than hawks, were also significantly less intelligent and thus more difficult to train.

The theory of owls as messengers gained more evidence a few moments later, as a much larger owl entered the kitchen, this one carrying a package in its talons, which it gently deposited on a clear section of table before joining its cousin at the water and meat. The smaller bird made a clearly irritated sound and ruffled its feathers before taking to the air again and leaving via the window.

Untying the string and pulling away the heavy brown paper, Xeno commented, «Ah, your potions have arrived, Iruka-san.» He tilted the box towards his guest, revealing a dozen glass potion phials, each with its stopper covered in wax stamped with a logo depicting a cauldron sitting on an open book. «Each one should last for seventy-two hours, so this amount should be enough to get you at least capable of regular conversation in English, and likely more. I'd suggest taking your first as soon as possible, since you're already with people who will be speaking English in your presence. The taste, I'm afraid, is just as unpleasant as most other potions, and you'll feel a slight tingling around your temples for several minutes as the potion takes effect, and again when it wears off.»

With a nod to his host, Iruka withdrew one of the phials. It held probably about as much liquid as a small teacup, with a thick, flat bottom that likely made it easy to stand on a table or workbench for filling. The contents were quite fluid and seemed to avoid the walls of the phial like mercury, with a color he could only describe as a vibrant beige. Reasonably numbed to the bizarre elements of this world by now, he simply shrugged, broke the wax seal, popped the cork, and drained the phial in one smooth motion. The whiff he had gotten smelled strongly of fish, while the taste was reminiscent of that time Naruto tried to "improvise" a ramen recipe (an incident which was now classified, by order of the Seventh Hokage). As described by Xeno, his head began to tingle, centered roughly beneath his temples; it wasn't painful, though he was certainly glad that it wouldn't be continuous throughout the potion's effect.

«Excellent! Perhaps, after breakfast, we can begin your first proper lesson in the English language.»

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There turned out to be one slight wrinkle in Xeno's plan: Shortly into their lesson, when he explained to Luna what they were doing, she eagerly asked if she could learn Japanese. Grinning with obvious pride at his daughter's thirst for knowledge, he agreed, and thus the lesson became a hybrid English/Japanese language class, with Xeno as the primary teacher and each of his students also acting as a teaching assistant.

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That afternoon, both Lovegoods used the Floo to return to the hospital. Iruka begged off, stating that he didn't want to intrude on what should be time as a family, and anyway he hadn't done his training for the day yet. What he didn't mention was that he didn't want to be among the first things Pandora saw when she awoke, in case she remembered him from and associated him with her accident; better to give Xeno time to explain the situation to her fully and prevent any awkward misunderstandings.

Several hours later, Iruka had finished training, showered, and dressed in fresh robes. He was now carefully practicing using a quill pen to draw the letters he'd been shown earlier, when he heard the distinctive _whoosh_ of Floo travel followed by voices. Carefully stoppering his ink and tidying his workspace on the coffee table, he rose just as the three Lovegoods ascended the stairs, a more difficult task than usual given the fact that Xeno was helping to steady Pandora, while Luna clung to her mother's side as if desperately seeking reassurance that she was truly back. Immediately, Iruka pulled the coffe table away from the sofa, creating a clear path, and was rewarded with a grateful smile from Pandora. The woman herself looked pale, fatigued, and a bit unsteady, but she was still doing far better than at their previous meeting. Clearly, given the extent of her injuries, wizards were about as good at healing as shinobi, though he suspected that merging the two styles of healing might provide even better results - something to look into if he ever regained contact with Konoha.

Once the family had seated themselves on the couch, with their newly-returned member in the middle, Iruka bowed to the woman and greeted her in English: "Welcome home, Mrs. Lovegood. I am Iruka Umino, and it is a pleasure to meet you." He had made sure to learn those sentences during that morning's lesson for precisely this reason.

«Pandora Lovegood, the pleasure is mine.» Her response was as thickly-accented as he suspected his greeting had been, but was still clearly intelligible. Judging by Luna's proud grin and Xeno's fond chuckles, it would appear that someone had a brief language lesson before their return home.

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Over the next several days, life at the Lovegood home gradually returned to their version of normal. Pandora still tired easily, but was getting stronger by the day, and began to join Iruka in some of the chores he had been doing to help his hosts. There had been some tension between them at first, until a conversation translated by Xeno revealed that both had apparently feared that the other would blame them for the accident. Once everyone realized this, they all burst out laughing, and any lingering stress seemed to vanish. It was hours before the Rook's occupants stopped randomly chuckling.

Xeno still spent a great deal of time in the Rook, but made regular trips to the small office he rented for use as the Quibbler's headquarters, as his magazine still needed to be printed and sent out to its subscribers.

Pandora, meanwhile, had also joined in with the language lessons, ordering additional Libation for once she was clear of her current medical potions regime. With such parents, it was easy to see where Luna's inquisitive nature came from. Soon, many conversations in the quirky house involved the speakers trying to include their new vocabulary, leading to sentences that switched seemingly at random between English and Japanese, often to Xeno's great amusement.

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A week after Iruka's arrival, a particularly bedraggled old owl arrived at breakfast, perching on a side table after dropping a note into Pandora's porridge. With an air of fond exasperation and amusement, the woman cleaned the mess with her wand before opening the missive. Their guest was able to make out some of what she explained to her family, something regarding the Weasleys and a party. Finally, Xeno took pity on him and filled in the gaps. «Molly Weasley wishes to throw a get-together next Saturday at the Burrow, partially to celebrate Pandora's recovery, partially to welcome you to the village more properly, and partially so that she can feed every witch and wizard in Ottery St. Catchpole until we all burst. The other nearby magical families will also be invited, so you'll get the chance to meet our neighbors and practice your English with someone that doesn't know any Japanese.»

«Well, in that case, I'd better redouble my studies! I don't want to be clinging to you the whole time making you translate for me. Of course, if you need help getting out of a conversation, make this gesture,» Iruka demonstrated a basic 'need assistance' signal from Konoha's sign code, «and assuming I see it I'll make sure to suddenly require your help translating something,» he winked at his host. «That said, what have you told people about who I am and how I came to be staying here? I don't want to contradict anything you've already said, though I can't help but feel that it might be best if fewer people knew that I come from another world.»

Xeno chuckled, «Both excellent ideas. I was thinking along the same lines regarding your origins, so I've kept things to a minimum. You are Umino Iruka, a teacher from an isolated magical community. During one of your classes, a mishap with a spell a student was attempting coincided and seemingly interacted with a mishap in Pandora's experiment, bringing you here by a rough portkey-like effect. We are helping you find a way back to your homeland which, due to its isolated nature, is not listed in any available record and is Unplottable, thus explaining your difficulty in returning. That isolation also explains why your use of magic is different, since your homeland has had no known previous contact with the rest of the Wizarding World. Does this sound acceptable?»

«Sounds good. It's mostly true, which makes the few bits of fiction easier to remember and easier to pass as truth.»

«My reasoning exactly. It would appear, then, that we have a plan!»

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 **A/N: I totally did not plan this. Molly just wanted to throw a party, and you** _ **know**_ **how stubborn she can be...**

 **In case my paltry ASCII-Art skills leave you confused, that scene break divider is supposed to be a shuriken between two wands. I'd happily replace it with something better if somebody found a way to create something comparable (i.e. some combination of shuriken/kunai and wand(s)) that worked on FFNet and looked better without being super-tall. Regardless, I've gone back and utilized it in chapter 4 as well.  
**

 **Got a Follow notification on Monday for an author with two fics on my Favorites list, which is definitely a boost to my confidence!**

 **Anyway, a comment on my writing (so ignore everything below if you don't care about my process and plans): There are certain events that I would call 'landmarks', like the battle with the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets or the Little Hangleton graveyard. I've got most of those already at least planned out, and in at least one case written up in advance (pending revision to account for what I write between now and then), and these landmarks are some of the easiest things to write for me. Second easiest are scenes that flow naturally as I write them, where each event, action, or bit of speech dictates the next. Action scenes tend to fall under this heading. Where I tend to bog down is in between such scenes, in the parts that stitch everything else together. I have at times been sorely tempted to do this fic as the kind of story that constantly timeskips and (other than maybe bits of narration/exposition summing things up) leaves the reader to fill in the gaps.**

 **Fortunately or unfortunately, my inner Slytherin and Hufflepuff teamed up to force me down the harder path of actually writing things out. That's not to say that I won't timeskip; I'll be skipping weeks or even months at times, with only a minimal nod to events during such periods, but most of these skips will be of time where either nothing happens or nothing of note diverges from canon.**

 **What I** _ **refuse**_ **to do is spend lots of your time and mine simply regurgitating canon events. While there may be points where Iruka's perspective on an unaltered canon event might be of interest, I'm not going to have a long scene for such. As an example, the entire Sorting goes by in less than five paragraphs, and a lot of that isn't directly Sorting-related. I know that many people that read this will have not only read the books and/or seen the films, but will likely have also read numerous other fics that cover the same ground, and I don't want to bore them by simply repeating material they're already exhaustively familiar with.**

 **Fic recommendation: "Bondage Style!" by Chilord - a raunchy but surprisingly smart comedy about a Naruto trained in a rather... _unorthodox_ style.**

 **Posted 11 June 2017**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Noted different quotes for Japanese speech**


	6. 0-6: Party Time

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Iruka's lessons in the days leading up to the party focused heavily on conversational English and on topics of British magical culture that were likely to be referenced. The use of broomsticks for flight answered certain questions while generating others (mostly variations on "why brooms?"). For such a relatively peaceful society (at least compared to the Elemental Nations prior to Naruto's Peace), the game of Quidditch sounded strangely violent, and he couldn't help but wonder about the scoring system, though he resolved to withhold judgement until such time as he could actually watch a game. Regardless, flying was added relatively high on the chuunin's list of things to learn; unfortunately, neither Xeno nor Pandora were big flyers, and didn't feel competent to teach him properly, so he'd need to find an instructor once his English was up to the task.

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By the day of the party, Iruka could converse passably in English, though his accent was still quite thick and he tended to botch the syntax fairly frequently. It was very much a work in progress, but it was at least enough to get through the party without relying on Xeno for everything, especially since he could usually work out the meaning of what he heard, even if his ability to respond was limited. Pandora's understanding of Japanese was advancing as well, particularly now that she could also make use of the Libation, and Luna was learning quickly as well. While the mother would likely reach fluency first, her daughter was still setting an impressive pace, helped partly by a clear drive to pick up the language.

Pandora's strength had entirely returned at this point, and she happily took advantage of this fact, along with the beautiful weather that day, to request that they walk to the Burrow rather than Floo or Apparate. It was quite clear that Luna had learned her 'Puppy Eyes no Jutsu' from her mother, and soon the four were strolling through the Devon countryside. A couple of kilometers later, with Xeno looking somewhat worn and the other three completely fine, Iruka got his first up-close look at the Burrow.

As with every other magical structure he had seen so far, it looked as if it had been constructed while under some sort of perception-warping genjutsu (or strong psychedelic drugs). A small, squat stone building had obviously been expanded on at least four or five separate occasions, often vertically. The result was a tall, teetering dwelling that by all rights should probably be a pile of debris if gravity was functioning properly, and he desperately hoped that there was some form of magical reinforcement holding the whole structure together. A large shed sat out front and to the side, with a chicken coop somewhat nearer the front door, and there was a small orchard visible a ways behind the house. Also behind the house Iruka could hear a low hum of conversation, suggesting that the gathering was taking place in the back yard.

The quartet rounded the house to find a bustling group of adults and children, with most of the latter having flaming red hair. Several long tables had been set up in the back yard and seemed to be straining under the weight of the food laid out on them. Next to the back door of the house lay a large, somewhat overgrown kitchen garden, and further out was a small pond. Rusted cauldrons and bedraggled boots were piled to one side of the door, and Iruka could see most of the children sneaking repeated eager glances at what appeared to be a small stone outhouse.

"Xeno!" The shout came from a smiling man of around Iruka's age, slightly overweight, with thinning red hair and a friendly-looking face. From descriptions of the Lovegoods' neighbors, this approaching figure must be Arthur Weasley, their host for the day. "Wonderful to have you over. And Pandora, I can't tell you how glad we are to see you back to full health." He shook both of their hands while speaking to them. "Luna, nice to see you again. Ginny's around here somewhere, probably chasing after the twins for whatever they've done this time, and we've Cedric and Shirley over as well. I think I heard somebody playing Exploding Snap earlier as well..." Now he turned to Iruka, extending a hand. "And our visiting hero! Welcome to the Burrow, Mr. Umino, and let me add my thanks to those you've doubtless already received for helping Pandora." Arthur's handshake was firm and enthusiastic, everything about the man radiating warmth and congeniality.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. It is pleasure to be here. Your garden is quite lovely." Iruka smiled as he returned the greeting.

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Over the course of the party, Iruka found himself introduced to and conversing at least briefly with Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ronald, and Ginny Weasley, Amos, Tabitha, and Cedric Diggory, and Lawrence, Cordelia, and Shirley Fawcett.

The twins had the confusing habit of repeatedly switching speakers mid-sentence, and made several (failed) attempts to trick Iruka into drinking or eating things that they had dosed with potions. Most of these he simply faked consuming the tainted substance, but on one occasion he used a quick bit of misdirection and sleight-of-hand to leave the twins caught in their own prank, hamming it up as their siblings and several others laughed. After their heads returned to their normal shape, the two laughingly came up and congratulated him on turning the prank around on them. "That" "was brilliant!" "Dunno how you did it" "but we acknowledge your superior pranking skills!" This was capped off by a pair of comically exaggerated bows.

"Honestly! You two!" Mrs. Weasley bustled over, clearly less than pleased. "It's bad enough you get up to that nonsense at Hogwarts, but must you bother our guests as well?"

"It is no problem, Mrs. Weasley. I teach pranksters before, know how to deal with them. No one hurt, all in fun, yes?"

"Very well," Mrs. Weasley huffed, "but no more of this today or you'll both be de-gnoming the garden till you've children of your own!"

"Yes, mum," the twins chorused in perfect synch.

With a still-suspicious nod at the two, the woman moved off, likely to make sure that everyone was being amply fed. Iruka took the opportunity to lean down between the two and whisper in their ears. "Your mistake, too obvious. Need to be more subtle, more sneaky. Distraction work very well for this. You are two, yes? One distract, other play prank, much harder to spot that way." Straightening up, he smiled and winked at their dumbstruck-yet-worshipful expressions.

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It was during a conversation with several of the adults and children that it came out that Iruka had yet to learn to fly a broom.

"Well that can't stand!" Charlie exclaimed, getting solemn nods from the twins, Ronald, Ginny, and Cedric. "Come around this summer, we'll have our brooms home then, so we can teach you!"

Glancing at the Weasley parents, the chuunin noted that Arthur looked amused while Molly leaned more towards exasperation. "Thank you," he demurred, "but I will have to see if I have time when you are free. Also, still learning English, easier to teach when student can ask question and understand answer, yes?" The children nodded, satisfied. He'd contact the Weasley parents at a later point, to make sure they approved of this invitation before deciding whether to accept. Still, he hoped that it would work out; flight had all sorts of uses, and besides, it sounded like a lot of fun.

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By the end of the party, Iruka had resolved to put in extra training hours for the next week to burn off all the calories he'd eaten. The party had been enjoyable, however, and the food delicious. He even asked Mrs. Weasley at one point whether she had ever considered running a restaurant. At her awkward response, he suggested that she might also look at possibly writing a cookbook, to share her lovely recipes, which brightened her mood immediately.

Percival Weasley, or "Percy" as most called him, reminded Iruka uncomfortably of Ebisu, highly intelligent but stern and uptight, with an unhidden disdain for his twin brothers' antics. He hoped the boy would turn out to share Ebisu's more positive character traits if pressed, but for now simply remained polite.

When Arthur found out about Iruka's desire for information on the non-magical world, he soon almost dragged the chuunin around to the shed in front of his house. Inside, the most dominant feature was a vehicle of some kind, judging by the wheels, though of an unfamiliar design. Along the walls were workbenches, sets of shelving, and pegboards, all of which were strewn with a seemingly random assortment of objects, some more recognizable than others. The party's host took great pride in displaying his collection of plugs and batteries, but expressed his frustration at being unable to determine the function of a rubber duck. His expression turned to one of almost childish joy when Iruka explained that it was a child's bath toy. Many further descriptions and explanations (or at least attempts thereat) followed, but in the end, Iruka left with little new information. Many of the electrical items were little different from what he'd find back home, but even for those Arthur's information was often badly flawed. Given that this was supposed to be their government's top expert on all things non-magical, it was abundantly clear that he would have to look to unofficial sources if he wanted to learn about that side of this world. The overall impression of Arthur that he was left with was of an exceptionally friendly and likeable man, a good and loving father, but not extraordinarily bright.

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The party past, lessons became more relaxed and freeform once more. Now that Iruka was beyond basic vocabulary and focusing on refining his speech, topics of conversation ranged significantly farther than language and common subjects. This, in turn, allowed Xeno and Pandora to roll in lessons on Wizarding Britain, from ancient history to law and civics and from education to wildlife, though magic itself was still only lightly touched upon outside of general theory and a bit of basic potion-making. Discussion of Pandora's research was likewise mostly shelved until the two were finished with their Libation regime.

Some of the more recent history, along with more detailed political discussion, was saved for times when Luna was elsewhere. It was now that Iruka learned in greater depth about the Blood War and Lord Voldemort. Being a shinobi, he couldn't help but examine the tactics used by both sides, and it was clear why things had progressed as they had: One side held the clear moral high ground, and defended that position as staunchly as they defended their nation, attempting to fight a predominantly law-enforcement action against their enemies while still remaining a civilized society. The other side, meanwhile, went beyond ruthlessness to active cruelty and sadism, deliberately exploiting the rules their enemies followed in order to shield themselves from retribution. This difference alone would hardly have been insurmountable, but other problems make the outcome almost certain: There was a mind-controlling magic that was apparently nearly impossible to resist, allowing even the most loyal defenders to be suborned. That neither this curse nor magical disguises could be reliably tested for under most circumstances meant that nobody could be truly trusted, making any attempt to organize a successful large-scale response virtually impossible. On top of all that, given that the Death Eaters tended to target the families of those who even so much as spoke against their master, it was hardly surprising that only a devoted few were willing to stand and fight.

Of course, even if there had not been such disparities between the two sides' methods, there would still have to be enough popular will to fight against Voldemort. Troublingly, it seemed that many British witches and wizards, at least among the so-called "purebloods", were at best apathetic when it came to the Dark Lord's dogma of bigotry towards those whose ancestry was insufficiently "pure", and many actively agreed with such beliefs, even if not all approved of his methods and his grab for power. Nothing made this clearer than the fact that several of his followers were not only free nowadays, but considered pillars of the community. True, they had pled that their actions were coerced through mind control, but their and their families' political stances both before and after the war suggested otherwise. They were from "good, respectable families" and they gave some money to "worthy causes" (some of which were actually worthy, like the hospital), so in the end only those who couldn't or wouldn't make excuses for their actions were imprisoned, while the rest were welcomed back into society with open arms. Many now held positions of considerable influence and importance, ironically making them closer to taking over the country now than at any time during the war. It seemed that, at least among the ruling aristocracy, their toxic ideology was generally at least tolerated and often supported. Even if the dividing lines were drawn differently, it was still chillingly reminiscent of accounts he had read from Mizu no Kuni before and during the Bloodline Purges.

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 **A/N: Before you transfigure some torches and pitchforks, I am** _ **not**_ **trying to bash Arthur. He's a great guy in most ways, but he does unfortunately seem to treat muggles like a clever tribe of quaint primitives. While he might like them and care about their wellbeing, his attitude towards them is not really one of respect.**

 **Anyway, as I said last chapter, this party was no part of my plans - sometimes the characters just decide to do something and I go along with it. Next chapter, Iruka finally gets his wand!**

 **Fic recommendation: "The Man With No Name" by Frostfyre7 - a Doctor Who / Serenity crossover that somehow manages to capture the characters from both well, while adeptly merging the feel of both settings.**

 **Posted 02 July 2017**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**


	7. 0-7: Sealed Deal

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Text inside «» is in Japanese.**

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Feeling increasingly like a freeloader, Iruka considered how he might better contribute to the Lovegood household. Most of his skills were either language-dependant (such as teaching) or not the kind of thing his hosts would likely need or approve of (such as killing). Finally, he realized one thing that _could_ provide some value to his hosts - seals. He had already made some use of his moderate fuuinjutsu skills since his arrival, keeping any weapons not carried on his person inside a storage scroll (which he often still carried on him) to avoid awkward questions like "what are all these knives for?". It was a very versatile discipline, with many non-combat applications; the big question was whether any of those applications would be of use to people here.

«Xeno-san, could you help me with something? It's a bit of an experiment, but I can virtually guarantee that it's safe; the worst that should even be _able_ to happen is nothing.» He had prepared a Light Generating Seal, one of the most basic seals taught to beginners both because of its simplicity and the fact that it was virtually impossible to cause a catastrophic malfunction if the creator was even remotely competent.

«Of course, Iruka-san, what can I do for you?» Xeno could clearly tell that this was a serious matter, as his guest had taken to using English as much as possible to get in extra practice.

«I need you to try channeling a small amount of magic into this diagram,» he replied, indicating the charging node on the seal, «right there. I want to see if a wizard can make use of it without special training.»

Xeno nodded, drawing his wand, and placed the tip on the charging node. After a moment's concentration, the central formation of the seal began to emit a faint teal glow. It would seem that 'magic' had at least something in common with yin-heavy chakra: One of the other major uses of this seal was as a training tool, to show how the chakra used was balanced. Yin chakra would tint the light blue, while yang would tint it red. The shade he saw was unusual, and he thought back to reports of other colors. Jinchuuriki and other individuals with anomalous chakra could produce atypical shades, something Naruto had helped him confirm - including that sage chakra lit the seal green! This teal light might be an indicator that magic drew from both the user's spiritual energy and the energy of nature, which would explain why some locations were described as being stronger magically, if they had high concentrations of natural energy. Satisfied by his new discoveries, Iruka thanked his host and indicated that he could stop.

«I might need to tweak things slightly to account for the differences,» he explained, briefly lighting the seal with his own chakra to demonstrate, «but it appears to be workable. If all goes well, I may be able to produce something useful for you and your family, or even versions that could be sold to make up for the cost of my stay here.»

Xeno briefly adopted the fond, exasperated smile that he often wore when Iruka talked about paying him back. Clearly he didn't feel it was necessary, but was willing to humor his guest to spare the man's dignity. His look of curiosity soon returned, however. «May I ask what this diagram is? Some of the marks look like kanji or kana, but I can only read a couple of symbols, and I've never seen anything like it.»

«This is a seal, specifically a standard basic light seal,» Iruka explained. «Fuuinjutsu can produce a number of useful effects, really limited mainly by the skill of the person drawing the seals. I'm far from a master of the discipline, but I can handle a few common tasks like storing items, locking doors or containers, reinforcing objects, and creating barriers, among other things. What I need now is to determine what, if anything, would be useful to you or others, and make sure it all can work fully with magic.»

For the next two hours, Iruka described and demonstrated a number of different seals, all civilian-cleared, and discussed their possible uses with his host. In the end, it was agreed that Iruka would provide his hosts with a small supply of storage seals, apply reinforcement seals to the Rook's walls and floors, and place fire-sealing scrolls in accessible locations for use in emergencies. In addition, Xeno and Pandora would show some of these seals to friends and neighbors to sound them out on the potential demand, and possibly begin generating a market. Xeno warned, though, that British wizards and witches were generally very conservative and not particularly fond of novelty, so demand would likely be low, especially at first.

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Three days later, a fierce-looking eagle owl swooped in through the Lovegoods' kitchen window and deposited a letter in front of Iruka before immediately departing. "It would appear you have mail, Iruka-san," Xeno commented with ill-concealed amusement at his guest's bewildered expression. Shaking off his surprise, Iruka broke the wax seal on the letter and found it to be written in Japanese:

« _Umino Iruka:_

 _It has come to my attention that you are offering for sale a number of magical devices of unique character. The descriptions I have heard suggest that your products may be of use to Gringotts. As such, I invite you to meet with myself and other Gringotts representatives here at the bank at 1PM on Monday 24th April. If you do not wish to meet, or if this time is unacceptable, please notify me by owl no later than close of business tomorrow._

 _Bring such materials as you will require to demonstrate these "seals" you offer for sale. You may also bring one advisor of your choice if desired. Inform a teller that you have an appointment with me._

 _Yours in Profit,_

 _Keddrok, Vice-Chief of Acquisitions, Gringotts Bank, London_ »

Iruka's eyes rose as he read. "Xeno, are you free Monday afternoon? It would appear that Gringotts may be interested in purchasing some seals." He handed the letter to his host.

"I can certainly make the time. This could be quite the opportunity for you. Of course, between now and Monday we'll have to do our best to brush up on goblin culture; goblins are proud beings, easily offended and extremely slow to forgive. While I very much doubt that we can get them to _like_ you, a disdainful tolerance should be quite doable, and more than enough for a workable business relationship."

Unlike the lead-up to the party at the Burrow, Xeno was studying almost as much as he was teaching. While he had vaults at Gringotts himself, he had never attempted to do business directly with the goblins outside of normal banking functions. As with the language lesson, Pandora and Luna enthusiastically joined in.

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That Monday, a deal was struck to supply Gringotts with various seals on a regular basis. Neither human was an experienced business negotiator, and dealing with another species made it even harder on them, though Iruka's training was enough to pick up a couple of tells. While he was certain that he could have gotten a significantly better deal, Iruka was satisfied with the money he would be receiving, as it more than paid for his room and board (he'd done some cost research in advance). Agreement reached, all parties signed the magically-binding contract that ensured Iruka would uphold his end and Gringotts wouldn't try to resell or reverse-engineer any of his seals without his explicit permission.

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Five weeks after his unexpected arrival in the Lovegoods' living room, Iruka had mastered the English language enough that further use of the Libation would no longer help. To celebrate, on the afternoon of the day that his last dose wore off, Xeno took Iruka to Diagon Alley to purchase a wand. This would also be Iruka's first purchase with Galleons he had earned through selling his seals. Even after hearing about and working with them for weeks, his logical mind still balked at the conversion rates between Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.

The interior of Ollivander's Wands was lit only dimly through the dingy windows, and dust lay on many surfaces. Despite the room itself being two stories tall, it still seemed very closed-in, which was little helped by the dark woods used throughout the shop or the still air in which the ringing of the bell over the door seemed far louder than it had any right to be. Shelves of narrow boxes seemed to cover every wall from floor to ceiling, with the sole openings being the doors and window present in the room and the stairs which led to a catwalk-type balcony. A small counter and till stood beside the foot of the stairs, and a very worn and flimsy-looking chair sat forlornly in a corner.

Sensing a nearby presence, Iruka turned to look just as a man stepped forward. The proprietor of the shop was an older man, with wispy grey hair and large silvery-grey eyes not entirely unlike Xeno's and Luna's. He also had a slight pouting expression, as if annoyed that he had been noticed so quickly, but it lasted only a moment before transforming into a look of curiosity and enthusiasm. He glanced first to Xeno. "Ah, Xenophilius Lovegood, hornbeam and unicorn tail hair, thirteen inches." Turning back to Iruka, he queried, "and who might you be? Trouble with your wand, or coming for a new one?"

"Umino Iruka. I actually have never owned a wand before." Iruka responded somewhat uncomfortably.

"Hmm... The name is unfamiliar, and yet you are far too old to be a new Muggleborn about to start at Hogwarts. I take it you are a recent arrival in Britain?"

"That's right." Iruka proceeded to give a brief summary of the cover story he and Xeno had agreed upon for his origins.

"Fascinating! I have certainly never matched anyone from your country before, so this should be an interesting endeavor! Please, hold up your wand arm." An almost childlike glee had overtaken the man, and he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket and began to measure various dimensions on Iruka's body. After the first few, Ollivander walked away while the tape continued to measure spans of increasing strangeness as he puttered about the shelves. It was when it attempted to measure a particularly delicate part of his anatomy that the chuunin's hand snapped down and snatched it from the air. Xeno, meanwhile, was calmly standing and watching with a look of bemusement.

"Every Ollivander wand is made of the finest-quality wand woods," Ollivander explained as he searched, "with a core of either dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, or phoenix feather. No two wands are exactly alike just as no two witches or wizards are exactly alike, though there was that pair of twins last April... Anyway, the key is finding a proper match. The wand chooses the wizard, you know, not the other way around. Better that way, too - I cannot tell you how many times I've dealt with irate customers who purchased an ill-matched wand from some other wandmaker because they thought they knew better how to pick. Bah! No surprise that they got poor results, and not just because some of those wands were good for little more than kindling."

Finally, after several minutes, the wandmaker returned with an armful of boxes which he deposited on the counter before opening one and handing its contents to Iruka, handle-first. "Try this one. English Oak and phoenix feather, ten and one-quarter inches, flexible." Iruka grasped the wand, uncertain of what to do. "Just give it a wave," the man instructed. Doing as he was told, Iruka was startled by the cacophonous cries of seagulls. "No, no, that won't do. This one, Acacia and unicorn hair, twelve inches exactly, whippy." This second wand began billowing steam from the handle. "Not to worry," Ollivander assured him as he snatched the wand from his hand and replaced it with another, "Maple and dragon heartstring, eleven and three-quarters, firm." His third attempted wand match very clearly did _not_ choose Iruka, and demonstrated this by leaping out of his hand and bouncing off Xeno's forehead.

So things went, with Ollivander trying wand after wand, sometimes barely letting them touch Iruka's hand before snatching them away again. Those that weren't snatched away either did little to nothing or had... _unpredictable_ results. Surprisingly, the wandsmith seemed happier and happier as each wand rejected his customer; perhaps he didn't get that much business, and this was his form of on-the-job entertainment? That would certainly put some of the more comical wand reactions in a new light.

It took about twenty-five minutes for Iruka to find the wand for him. Eleven inches, beech wood with unicorn hair, described by Ollivander as "springy". As soon as the chuunin's hand closed around it, he could feel a rush of chakra down his arm, and a warm feeling flowing back, as if the wand were connecting itself directly to his coils. "Marvelous!" Ollivander exclaimed, "I should have tried beech sooner, really, if you've been staying with Xenophilius. Regardless, that will be seven galleons for the wand." He waved his own wand (Iruka noted that the wood seemed to match that in Xeno's wand) and the various boxes flew back to find vacant spots in the shelves. "Will there be anything else, while you're here?"

Iruka left with his new wand in a wrist holster for easier access, a jar of polish and a pamphlet on proper wand care in his pockets, and a resolution to look up wand lore when he got the chance.

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 **A/N:** **A response to a guest review of chapter 6 - that's coming up next chapter.**

 **From Pottermore: "** **The true match for a beech wand will be, if young, wise beyond his or her years, and if full-grown, rich in understanding and experience. Beech wands perform very weakly for the narrow-minded and intolerant. " Iruka had to be more broad-minded than his peers to be one of the first to see Naruto for who he truly was rather than as an embodiment of the fox.  
**

 **"** **My own wand is made of hornbeam, and so it is with all due modesty that I state that hornbeam selects for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession (though I prefer the term 'vision'), which will almost always be realised.** **" That sounded like a good match for Xeno as well.  
**

 **I did write a scene of the meeting in Gringotts, but upon review it wasn't honestly very interesting and just dragged the pacing down. It's still saved, and might make an appearance in some kind of deleted scenes / omakes posting.**

 **I know some might have expected Iruka to end up with cherry, given the Japanese associations, but it's stated as being a particularly powerful wand wood and Iruka is not going to be a particularly powerful wizard. This, of course, leads me to the questions of magic vs. chakra and wizards vs. ninja, how they relate, etc. Because there won't be any explicit explanations given in-story, I'll describe here how I'm modeling things mentally. This isn't a full, detailed explanation because I frankly didn't feel like crafting a consistent linking mechanic between the two systems when it just won't matter to the story, so it's going to be a bit vague in spots:**

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 **Magic utilizes both the mage's spiritual energy and something at least very similar to natural energy. Wizarding Earth's natural energy has more of a magical flavor to it, giving it a degree of intelligence and life, and changing its behavior somewhat. That's not to say that a sage couldn't use senjutsu there, but they might experience some strange side-effects and/or challenges. Thousands of years of use as magic have further cemented the magical side of that world's natural energy, almost domesticating it in a way. The natural energy of the Elemental Nations is wilder and more primal, with much less magic in it.**

 **Growing up in what is effectively a low-magic world stunts the growth of magical ability in children. On the other hand, the active cultivation of their chakra means that even children that would otherwise have been Squibs (or possibly even Muggles, who knows?) can develop their spiritual energy enough to connect somewhat with magic if they go somewhere it's plentiful enough. People with strong spiritual energy (such as the Uchiha clan) would almost certainly be magical even without ninja training. Consider the degree to which the more powerful sharingan / rinnegan users can warp reality - they've advanced enough that a bit of magic is leaking into their ninjutsu. The low magical development and lack of ambient magic is why we don't see accidental magic from shinobi children.**

 **On the flip side, wizarding children _could_ be trained into highly capable shinobi, but only if their training started young enough. The way I'm working it, part of the reason for ninjas' superhuman physical abilities (which we clearly see Naruto using before he's learned to channel chakra to just part of his body) is that the training regime alters their physical development. Training, medicines, and other practices change the way their body grows, enhancing it greatly. Thus, the more growing a person has done before they start their training and prep, the less of a boost they'll get. Because of this, the late start that those wizarding children Iruka teaches will get is going to prevent them from becoming super-OP shinobi. My intent is that, for the most part, they'll be around high genin or low chuunin level by the end of the story, if you count their magic.**

 **Fic recommendation: "Potter's Protector" by mjimeyg - the first in a series of four progressive crossover fics, this one begins with Xander Harris (of Buffy the Vampire Slayer) being brought to Hogwarts to take care of Harry. Things get complicated and wacky hijinks ensue. Definitely has some very Whedon-esque humor in it.**

 **Posted 16 July 2017**

 **Updated (A/N only) 30 July 2017: Added fic recommendation**

 **Updated (A/N only) 15 September 2017: Noted different quotes for Japanese speech**


	8. 0-8: Discovery

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

Now that he had both a wand and a grasp of the English language, Iruka's magical education began in earnest. When not training or sealing, he would often spend much of his time immersed in books on a variety of magical subjects, though focusing primarily on Charms, Runes, Arithmancy, Enchanting, Occlumency, and (briefly) Divination. Both adult Lovegoods, Pandora especially, could often be found teaching him spells or clarifying points that he had read about but not entirely grasped. Of course, Pandora also tended to loan her wand to her daughter during times that Xeno was teaching, since no one present considered it fair to shut the precocious girl out of learning. Both child and chuunin proved able students, with Iruka frequently spending the extra effort to learn his spells silently as quickly as possible.

At one point, Iruka took a break from a particularly dry volume on Elder Futhark runes and their uses to read the latest issue of the Quibbler, now that he actually had enough knowledge of the language and context to grasp some meaning from it (he did read the Daily Prophet regularly, though he agreed with Xeno that their journalistic standards would make it best suited as lining for the Inuzuka kennels). Three pages in, it was everything he could do not to burst out laughing. He knew from his times eavesdropping and people-watching around Diagon Alley that most considered the Quibbler to be a silly heap of nonsense and insanity, and to be fair that _was_ what it appeared to be initially. Reading deeper (or as the Sixth called it "looking underneath the underneath") revealed that it was actually sprinkled with carefully-constructed and well-hidden political commentary and satire. Once you grasped the loose 'code' in which the articles were written, it became clear that Xeno was directing biting commentary at various influential parties. Given the Ministry's rather blatant corruption, it seemed likely that open and meaningful criticism would likely result in serious bureaucratic or even legal troubles. Disguising the comments allowed both the publisher and the readers to poke fun at those in power while using their targets' narrow-mindedness as a shield against reprisal.

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As the 26th of May approached, Iruka asked for a few specialized ingredients, as he intended to cook a special meal for the family. "I know a shop that carries imported foods; I can stop in tomorrow while I'm out shopping." A bemused Pandora agreed. "May I ask what the occasion is?"

"Well," the scarred chuunin rubbed the back of his head in a gesture reminiscent of his favorite former student, "the 26th is actually my 43rd birthday, and I wanted to celebrate by cooking one of my favorite foods for everyone. I know ramen isn't exactly fancy cuisine, but it's part of a lot of fond memories for me."

He was rewarded with a sly smile. "Then I'll have to make sure we have everything we need to celebrate!"

After his birthday dinner, the Lovegoods 'surprised' Iruka with birthday presents: An large illustrated bestiary that listed all known magical creatures, current and extinct, with at least basic information about each, and a set of fancy stationary and quills to use for business and other formal correspondence. He spent the evening poring over his new volume with Luna eagerly reading over his shoulder, occasionally commenting on her favorite entries.

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The glen in which Iruka trained every day was incredibly peaceful. Several days after his birthday party, it turned out to be a little _too_ peaceful, as the chuunin ended up so deeply immersed in his watertop meditations that he neglected his situational awareness.

"How are you doing that?"

A simple question, asked in a tone of calm curiosity in the voice of a child, sent Iruka's system from relaxed meditation to full combat alert in a fraction of a second. By the time he had fully registered his situation, he had already flipped through the air to land in a ready crouch across the pool from the speaker, who turned out to be Luna Lovegood, watching him with her head tilted to one side and her expression no more surprised than it usually tended to look. "Luna?" he managed to croak out, "What are you doing here?"

"You were out longer than usual, so Mummy sent me to let you know that dinner will be ready soon. I've never seen someone sit on top of water before without getting wet, unless the water was frozen. It was very impressive how you threw yourself in the air like that, too. Were you using something like a Featherlight Charm? Mummy said you couldn't put that charm on a person, but I'm sure there could be something that works on people rather than things."

Taking a moment to parse Luna's typical stream-of-consciousness style of speech, Iruka sighed as he relaxed and stood up. "No, Luna, it's - well, it's something from my homeland. We learn to walk in places that we shouldn't be able to, like across water." He demonstrated by crossing to pool to stand in front of the girl. "The jump was part of my physical training. I'd really appreciate it if we could keep this between us; I'm not sure how people would react to some of the things I can do, and besides that I just prefer to keep it a secret."

"I don't see why it's anybody's business what you can do unless you're doing it for them. But..." Here Luna's posture turned somewhat uncertain and she looked down briefly, "can you teach me?" As the girl's face turned back up towards him, Iruka was treated to a blast of puppy-dog eyes that surpassed some _actual puppies_ (and he'd heard the Inuzuka ninken even trained their puppies from an early age to maximize their effect).

The chuunin's mind raced. Having someone to train _with_ would certainly not hurt his regimen, but training a foreign child in shinobi arts without her parents' knowledge and permission didn't sit well with him at all. Then again, he considered, he didn't have to teach her anything particularly dangerous - basic chakra usage and physical conditioning, maybe some simple taijutsu to help her protect herself - she was too old to ever likely reach the capabilities of a full shinobi, even with the level of training that tended to come with green spandex bodysuits, but she could still be able to keep herself safe. Coming to a decision, he addressed Luna. "I may, but I will want your parents' permission first. If I do teach you, though, I will be expecting you to work hard."

Luna's excitement was palpable, as her broad grin seemed to brighten the small glen like a miniature sun. She immediately grabbed an amused Iruka's hand and dragged him off back towards the Rook as fast as her short legs could take her.

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It was obvious during dinner that Luna couldn't wait for Iruka to ask her parents, and equally obvious that said parents were aware that something was up. "Luna saw a bit of my training today," Iruka began, "and wanted to ask if I could teach her a bit of what I can do. I responded that I would consider it if you two gave your blessing."

Xeno seemed about ready to agree immediately, but Pandora put a hand on his forearm, halting him, before addressing their houseguest. "Perhaps you could give us some idea of what you'd be teaching her, and what this 'training' entails?"

Iruka nodded; he had expected this question. "At first, it would largely consist of physical exercise and meditation, the latter partially with the intent of helping her learn to access the same form of energy I use for my techniques. If she gained reliable access, that portion of the training could then progress to teaching her some basic uses of this energy. Finally, once she reached a satisfactory level of physical conditioning, I'd teach her some basic techniques for self-defense. You are both welcome to accompany me to the glen on Saturday to see a demonstration of the kinds of things Luna could eventually learn."

This sounded good to the Lovegood parents; physical fitness was hard to argue against, and all parents want their children to be able to protect themselves. There were still concerns, however. "And what precisely _is_ this energy you'd be teaching our daughter to use? What is its source?" They certainly didn't want Luna unknowingly tapping into some form of Dark magic, after all.

"My people call it 'chakra', and it's produced by blending energies native to one's own body. When people uses magic, they are combining two energies - spiritual energy from within themselves, and natural energy from the world around them. At least, that's what I believe to be the case based on my tests thus far. In chakra, the spiritual energy is still used, but the other component is physical energy, drawn from one's own body. This is part of the reason for the physical training: While spiritual energy grows with one's mind and experiences, physical energy grows through strengthening the body. It is possible to combine all three energies, but only for those who have undergone special training, as ordinarily the power of nature can easily overwhelm the internal energies of the user, usually with fatal results. I could count the number of humans I know of that can do that safely on one hand."

"With chakra, the only real risk comes from overuse leading to exhaustion, something which I understand is equally possible with magic. Of course, mishaps carry a risk as well, but that seems to be another common trait. The major differences come in how the two energies are used: Magic is most easily used in external manifestations like charms and transfigurations, whereas many of the more universal forms of chakra usage are either internal or self-focused, such as temporarily boosting one's own strength, speed, and durability."

Xeno took this opportunity to show the incisive mind behind his writings. "Physical conditioning, self-defense, bodily reinforcement, garments that seemed as if they might be a uniform of some type, first-aid training with extensive supplies for a schoolyard class - a picture begins to emerge. I haven't felt a particular need to pry before now, but I'm sure you can understand why I ask: You gave your profession as 'teacher', but what is it you teach, and towards what kind of careers does it lead?"

Knowing he was caught, Iruka gave a resigned sigh. "In terms of subject matter, I teach a broad range of topics; I'm essentially a general-education teacher for the profession my students are pursuing. That profession, the same in which I was trained, is that of a _shinobi_ \- a ninja."

Pandora and her daughter clearly did not recognize the term, but the increased tension in Xeno's frame showed that he was familiar with it. "Luna, dear," Xeno said calmly, "perhaps now would be a good time for you to catch up on your reading? This discussion may cover topics you shouldn't be dealing with." The girl was clearly confused and slightly worried, but with reassuring nods from the adults in the room, made her way reluctantly upstairs. Once her footsteps had disappeared into the upper reaches of the Rook, Xeno motioned for his guest to continue.

Iruka gathered his thoughts, trying to summarize the shinobi lifestyle to a couple of civilians that had never even heard of the Elemental Nations, being honest while at the same time framing things in as positive a light as could be managed; it would have been a mess, had he not pondered the possibility of a discussion like this occurring and considered what to say weeks ago. "The simplest way to describe the role of shinobi in the society of the Elemental Nations would be as an elite kind of soldier, but that doesn't fully encompass what we do. While we do serve as the primary form of defense for our nations, each Hidden Village also supplements its government funding by hiring out shinobi for missions. These missions need to be approved by the village's government, so that they don't go against the interests or values of their village or country, and can include things like apprehending criminals, eliminating bandits or problematic wild animals, guarding travelers, bodyguard duties, hostage rescue, and even chores and errands like babysitting and grocery shopping. Admittedly, these missions can also be of a less positive nature, such as espionage, theft, or even kidnapping or assassination, though only some villages have been historically willing to accept the nastier contracts, and Konoha, my village, is not one of them. Often, the worst jobs are done by deserters and renegades from the villages, who are desperate or amoral enough to do anything for money. Stopping or at least thwarting such renegades is a focus of many missions for more skilled shinobi."

"I myself come from Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, which has historically been one of the most pacifistic and moral villages. That's not to say our shinobi have never done missions like espionage or assassination, but we generally restricted such actions to valid military or political enemies."

"Generally?" Pandora interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

"There was, for a time, a faction within Konoha that disagreed with the village's general principles, and carried out unsavory and unscrupulous acts in secret, believing themselves to be acting for the good of the village. Their leader even briefly usurped the position of Hokage, Konoha's leader, until he was caught trying to use a mind-influencing jutsu on a foreign leader at a peace summit in an attempt to gain control over a newly-formed international alliance. He fled, and was killed soon thereafter." Iruka sighed. "Even over fifteen years later, we still occasionally come across evidence of yet another crime at his hand or his orders."

"This must all sound very bloody to you, but you must understand that the Elemental Nations have a violent history. Prior to the founding of Konoha, shinobi lived in clans, most of which were in a state of near-constant warfare with each other, each striving to raise their own prominence to gain access to more lucrative contracts and clients. Konoha, followed by the rest of the Hidden Villages, were founded in part to help promote peace by tying many previously-hostile clans together as friends and comrades. It worked, too - sort of."

"With clans grouped into villages and villages tying themselves to the governments of the countries in which they were located, there was no longer such fierce competition between clans for the missions which provided their income, but there were still grudges, many of them generations-deep, born of the blood spilled by both sides. Throw in rivalries and disagreements between nations, and there were still enough incentives for war that wars kept occurring. They were generally more contained and less frequent, but often larger in scale."

"It all came to a head around fifteen years ago. A tremendously powerful madman sought to cast a jutsu that would trap the _entire world_ in an idyllic illusion, forever. Needless to say, we preferred freedom and reality to enslavement by a pleasant lie. All of the nations and villages pooled their military forces and confronted an army of creatures fielded by the madman, in what is known as the Fourth Great Shinobi War. Obviously we won, since otherwise I wouldn't be here, but the cost in lives was terrible; almost everyone alive today in the Elemental nations knew or is closely related to at least one, and often several, of those lost."

"Out of that terrible darkness, though, our leaders were able to forge an agreement that has left us in our world's longest and most complete period of peace in recorded history. Fighting together, sharing the fear and the pain and the triumph and the loss, has helped create bonds between groups that had been at each other's throats for generations. More than one of my former students are now married to ninja from villages that warred with Konoha within their lifetimes. The role of shinobi has shifted, somewhat, since the Fourth War. While each village's military power still stands as a deterrent against war, the shinobi of today mostly serve as peacekeepers and law-enforcers, protecting innocent people against those who would prey upon them or shatter our dearly-bought peace." Iruka stopped, here, to allow his hosts to process the vast amount of information he had dropped on them and to discover whether he would still be staying at the Rook come tomorrow.

"You have given us a great deal to think about," Xeno said after some thought, "and I believe it would be best if we all retired for tonight, so that Pandora and I can discuss this and sleep on the matter. We should be able to give you and Luna a tentative answer regarding instruction by morning, though a positive answer would be conditional on our approval of what you demonstrate."

Iruka nodded, and rose to prepare for bed. "I can only ask that the full nature of my training and abilities be kept confidential, as I don't want your Ministry deciding that I am some threat to be eliminated or a curiosity to be captured and studied or experimented on," he commented, receiving nods from his hosts. As he ascended the spiral stair, he saw Xeno wave his wand to erect a bubble of silence around the kitchen table, and the adult Lovegoods began a serious discussion of the evening's revelations.

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Breakfast the next morning was tense, peaking as Xeno laid his utensils down and addressed his guest: "We've discussed the information you shared with us last night, and have come to the decision that, assuming we find nothing objectionable in your demonstration, you may train Luna as you described." Pandora would later wonder if her daughter's squeal of excitement was audible all the way to the Burrow.

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 **A/N: And so Iruka gets his first student.**

 **In response to a recent guest review: Iruka will not be a powerful wizard - he'll actually be fairly weak power-wise. Were it not for his shinobi training, he'd be an outright Squib at best, possibly even a Muggle. Now, given the fact that his shinobi training means his magic is more powerful than it otherwise would have been, it does follow that those he trains will get a small power boost in their own magic (not enough to overpower Dumbledore or Voldemort, but not trivial either).**

 **Given how many other authors are doing it, I have decided to cave to the non-existent peer pressure and begin recommending fics in my A/N! Each chapter prior to this one has had a recommendation added to its end A/N, though so far everything I've put is also on my Favorites list.**

 **Fic recommendation: "Learning" by ashez2ashes - a short, fun, fluffy little story of romance between Naruto and Hinata, with some lines that definitely put me in mind of the style of Joss Whedon. Just a bit of light-hearted fluff.**

 **Posted 30 July 2017**


	9. 0-9: Learning

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The next day, all four current residents of the Rook made their way out to the glen that had become Iruka's ersatz training ground. "I thought I'd start the demonstration by showing you what caught Luna's interest," Iruka stated, before calmly striding out onto the center of the small pool. Turning back to his hosts, he saw Luna continuing to radiate eagerness, as her parents gazed in wide-eyed surprise at the common shinobi skill. "This is an intermediate-level application of chakra, allowing me to walk on a surface that should be unable to support my weight." Jogging over to the trees, he stood at the base of the largest among them. It was still less than twenty meters tall and only slightly thicker than his thigh, but it would suffice for this demonstration. He stated, "A more basic version looks like this," and stepped onto the tree's trunk.

If the adult Lovegoods had been surprised by water-walking, tree-walking left them outright shocked. Both gaped openly, unable to respond, as Iruka stood calmly while protruding parallel to the ground. Having demonstrated, he stepped smoothly back to the ground. "Both of these techniques are used as training methods for refining a person's control over their chakra. Walking on a vertical surface requires that the correct amount of chakra be gathered in the soles of the feet and maintained at a steady level; too little and you lose your adhesion, too much and the surface suffers damage and your footing is destroyed. Water-walking requires even greater control, constantly adjusting for the fluid ever-changing nature of the water." He stepped back onto the pool. "Here is an actual jutsu, albeit one more advanced than Luna would be likely to learn any time soon." Forming a tiger seal, Iruka pushed out and shaped his chakra, causing a mass of water to rise up into a perfect likeness of himself. " **Mizu Bunshin no Jutsu** , the water clone - it's got its limits, and it's not as flashy as some other ninjutsu, but it's saved my life on a few occasions." He cut the flow of chakra to the clone, causing it to collapse back into the water from whence it came.

Stepping back onto dry land, he addressed them again. "Chakra can also be used to reinforce one's body. When combined with physical conditioning, this can produce feats that would be otherwise impossible." To demonstrate, he leapt back, spinning while turning upside down and returning to land on his feet, on the far side of the pool. From his standing start, he had covered over five meters of horizontal distance and cleared at least three at the peak of his arc. "As far as the self-defense, I'll demonstrate as best I can. Most of the training, especially initially, would be practicing the forms to learn the basic movements before attempting to actually learn techniques and applications." He then ran through the first kata of the standard Academy taijutsu style, the movements flowing with trivial ease after over thirty years of practice. Next, he moved back to the pool and called up another water clone, with which he proceeded to spar lightly, holding back to account for the clone's relative weakness and fragility. Still, he made sure to demonstrate several techniques that he knew would be of interest to his audience, such as breaking and counterattacking from several grabs, and having his clone pull its wand only for him to close distance and disarm it.

Dispelling the clone by forcefully countering one last grapple, he returned to shore somewhat damp and spoke to the Lovegoods. "I should mention that, even if Luna were to begin training today, and spend at least as much time training as I do, it is unlikely that she would achieve more than the most basic of these techniques before the end of this year. Further, shinobi begin their training from a very young age, in order to better develop their bodies and their chakra. Luna's later start would likely mean that she would never be able to reach the level of an elite shinobi. I myself would be considered low- to mid-level in my capabilities, and starting late would likely mean that she would need to have far greater talent and potential than I did to ever be able to significantly surpass what I can do. That said, unless she intends to work as an Auror or Hit Wizard, she will hopefully never _need_ to be a powerful fighter, and can instead simply enjoy the benefits of being uncommonly fit and mobile."

Xeno and Pandora looked at each other, communicating without words for several seconds, before turning to their daughter who was looking up at them with nervous enthusiasm. "You have our permission," Xeno stated as he and his wife were engulfed in a hug, "and we will all keep your abilities confidential. Anything that can give our daughter an additional advantage in the world is something we support. We only ask that you consider Luna's health and safety to be the top priority during your training."

Iruka bowed formally to the couple. "Of course, Xeno-san, Pandora-san. The wellbeing of my students is and always has been my highest priority." Detatching their daughter, Xeno and Pandora returned the bow, their daughter imitating them moments later. "So, Luna, your training begins tomorrow. Make sure that you wear clothing you can move freely in while remaining comfortable and decent and that you don't mind getting worn and dirty."

"Hai, Iruka-sensei!"

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Once Iruka had gained a sufficient understanding of magical theory, Pandora began explaining her recent research to him. While this still often required him to stop her in order to pursue more in-depth information on topics being discussed, she confessed that their talks had actually advanced her work somewhat: Having to put her ideas into words and explain them to a relative layman brought new organization and insights, and Iruka's very different perspective showed her several mistakes and oversights she had made. Sometimes he would ask a question for which she didn't know the answer, and the two would work together to figure it out, uncovering new information that she hadn't previously thought to be relevant. Conversely, Iruka began teaching Pandora some of the theory behind fuuinjutsu, comparing it to runic scripts and arithmantic diagrams used in warding and enchantments. His reason, other than wishing to reciprocate the education he was receiving, was the mark used as a destination point by the famous **Hiraishin no Jutsu** and the sealing arrays that spread in advance of a summoning jutsu: If seals interacted with space-time jutsu, then perhaps they could be useful in completing Pandora's work or even reversing whatever confluence of events had brought him here.

The research was, admittedly, tiring; while he knew ninja who spent their careers working in R&D, that work had never appealed to Iruka. Teaching had become his calling, even if he also spent a lot of time on administrative work, but if research was his best chance at returning home, that's what he would do.

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At the beginning of July, a note from Charlie Weasley had Iruka returning to the Burrow; it was time for him to learn how to fly.

The front door of the curious house was opened by Mrs. Weasley, whose expression was a combination of welcome and surprise. "Why, Mister Umino! Charlie said you'd be coming over, but I would've expected you to come by Floo..."

"I much prefer walking to Floo travel, at least when the distance is so short; doubly so in such nice weather. Besides, it's still so new to me, I tend to feel like I'm intruding to just pop up in someone's kitchen instead of knocking." Granted, back home, the knock might sometimes be on their _window_ , but the principle was the same.

Judging by her warm smile, Mrs. Weasley approved of his courteous attitude. "Well, do come in and rest a moment while I get Charlie for you. I should probably warn you, Fred and George may want to come as well - they're hoping to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so tips from last year's captain might help their chances a bit." She moved towards a staircase, calling "Charlie! Mister Umino is here!" as Iruka stepped inside.

The interior of the Burrow was warm and inviting, albeit rather cluttered. Its furniture was a somewhat chaotic jumble of different styles, every piece worn and well-used, but also clearly well-made and well-cared for. An odd clock caught the chuunin's eye, showing not the time but the current location or status of each of the nine Weasleys, a fascinating piece that Iruka hoped he might learn how to reproduce, as it could be quite useful back home. The relative clean of the house contrasted with the clutter to suggest a near-constant battle (presumably by Mrs. Weasley) against the various messes made by the Weasley children.

As with the Rook, the inside of the Burrow gave an overwhelming sense of home, family, love, and life. Unlike the Lovegood home, which also felt calm and tranquil in spite of its colorful decorations, the Weasley house seemed steeped in energy and activity. Then again, Iruka supposed, a home that had held seven children at once in a relatively confined space would almost _have_ to get a bit raucous. Iruka's consideration was interrupted when a thundering of footsteps heralded the arrival of Charlie and (as Mrs. Weasley had predicted) the twins.

All three boys had their family's characteristic flaming red hair and pale, freckled skin, and all had fairly robust builds. It struck Iruka that Charlie was likely much more quick and agile than his stocky build suggested, as he had learned that the Seeker position in Quidditch required both speed and maneuverability, though perhaps the young man's muscular build helped somehow in steering his broom. The twins were, as at the party, dressed identically to each other, and it would likely take him some time to learn to distinguish between the two. He also suspected that they would be actively trying to confuse the issue.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Umino," Charlie greeted him, extending his hand for a firm handshake, "why don't you come on out back and let's see if we can't get you in the air." The teen turned and headed for the back door and Iruka followed, bracketed by the twins.

"Ah, our dear friend," "Mister Umino," "welcome back" "to our humble abode." Only years of dealing with Naruto and his tendency to be everywhere at once kept Iruka steady as he dealt with the twins' back-and-forth style of speech. "We must say," "that your advice on your last visit" "has already proven invaluable" "in our efforts to bring laughter to others."

"You can take the teacher out of the school easily enough, but taking the school out of the teacher is a bit harder." Iruka smiled at the two while mentally offering his sympathies to their instructors.

Exiting the Burrow, Charlie made a beeline for the rear outbuilding, emerging moments later with a pair of broomsticks. Like everything else the Weasleys owned, they were clearly used and worn but well-maintained. "Cleansweep Fives," the teen said, "a bit obsolete and slow but they're steady and reliable. Good for learning, and should serve those two troublemakers" gesturing to Fred and George "well on the pitch next year. Anyway, here's what you need to do..."

Fifteen minutes later, Iruka was flying lazy patterns behind the Burrow, making sure to keep below the level of the trees to stay out of sight of the neighbors. Due to the constraints on his movement, he wasn't really moving any faster than he'd have been able to run, but there was a sense of unencumbered freedom to the act of flying that meant that given the opportunity he'd be going _much_ higher and faster. Flying broomsticks were definitely something to try and bring back with him if he ever found a way home.

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One fairly mild day in early July, Iruka found himself strangely idle. Xeno was out doing research for his next edition, and the ladies were out on a shopping trip. With nobody to talk to, research with, learn from, or train, the chuunin concluded that today would be a good time to learn about the non-magical majority of this world that he had been largely ignoring, living mostly sequestered in the Rook outside of his regular trips to Gringotts to deliver seals and irregular errands for books and other supplies. Mind made up, he stepped into the Floo and spun off to the Leaky Cauldron.

Reading up on his new world had revealed that the pub which served as the primary gateway to Magical Britain's main commercial district was hidden by wards which made those without magic unable to take conscious notice of it. These wards even extended slightly outward from the front of the building, in order to make certain that the entrance and those passing through it were always fully concealed. It was these wards Iruka hoped to make use of in order to get an idea of how he would need to look and behave to remain relatively unobtrusive in mundane London. Once he could pass without drawing too much attention, he would be able to step out and actually research the technology, culture, and history of the wider world. Any knowledge that could help him get home, or that could be of use if he did manage to return, was worth tracking down.

So it was that Iruka found himself leaning against the outside wall of the Leaky Cauldron, out of the way of the door, simply observing the street outside and the teeming crowds that passed by.

His first shock had come upon opening the door: While he had wondered about the odd vehicle in Arthur Weasley's shed, the answer was startling as he witnessed scores of the machines rumbling and roaring along the street. Whatever they were, they had to be quite heavy, judging by the vibrations Iruka could feel through the soles of his feet as they passed. He could only assume that the noisy section in front of the passenger area contained a motor, though such motors were rarely used in the Elemental Nations as wind, animal power, and human effort tended to be cheaper and less problematic. Clearly the technology behind them had advanced further here.

The construction of the city had been the next big focus. Many of the nearby buildings were four to six stories tall, and of a fairly consistent, if unfamiliar, architectural style, though he could also see glimpses of taller buildings resembling some of Konoha's newer construction. The street itself was paved with a seamless grayish-black substance, bordered by concrete walkways to either side which quite sensibly kept pedestrians from mingling with the heavy, fast-moving vehicles. The walkways had small gaps in places, showing dirt in which small trees had been planted, providing at least a bit of green amongst the brick, stone, concrete, glass, and... whatever that paving material was.

Finally, after assessing his environment, the chuunin moved on to the pedestrians themselves. Their clothing was much closer in style to some of the garments worn in the Elemental Nations. No robes or cloaks were in evidence, and few sandals, but he did see plenty of suits, trousers, shorts, t-shirts, and dresses that wouldn't have looked out of place back home. No weapons of any kind were in evidence anywhere, even to eyes trained at spotting concealed blades. The people he watched largely moved with a single-minded focus, barely acknowledging those they passed. A bit of eavesdropping on the conversations of groups of locals, and he should have the information needed to venture out.

That confident thought was interrupted by a rumbling roar from overhead. Iruka's head snapped up to see a truly _massive_ machine flying loudly overhead. He recognized the general shape as being like the distant flying silhouettes he saw on occasion in the skies over Ottery St. Catchpole and took for a species of local bird, but if those were of similar size to this thing, they had to have been flying _much_ higher and faster than he'd previously thought. A quick glance around showed that few of the surrounding pedestrians even glanced at the airborne behemoth, suggesting that something utterly unseen in the Elemental Nations was here considered downright commonplace. Flying machines flew straight to the top of the chuunin's non-magical to-research list.

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Time passed in a blur of research, training, and learning. After obtaining a supply of "Pounds Sterling" and "Pence" at Gringotts and selecting what he hoped were suitably nondescript clothes, Iruka made his first ventures into London proper in mid-July. He did some more extensive people-watching, then went on a shopping trip, picking up some more suitable garments for these expeditions (and some good exercise clothes for both himself and Luna) as well as an extensive collection of books on history, science, and engineering. Many of the books he chose on his first couple of runs were aimed towards children, which he figured would allow him to start at the basics before moving on to more advanced topics. Of course these inevitably ended up shared with Luna and subsequently her parents, and all four of the Rook's residents marveled both at how inexpensive the books were for the quality of illustrations they contained and at the amazing feats accomplished without magic. The book on space travel completely blew all of their minds, though Iruka couldn't help but shudder at the idea of walking on the moon. He could only assume that _this_ world's moon didn't contain the body of a civilization-smashing beast and couldn't be used to hypnotize the planet's population.

It was a history book, however, that truly frightened the chuunin. The scale of this world's wars was staggering, but somewhat unsurprising given its high population; some of the weapons used were profoundly disturbing: Supersonic projectiles that could kill from kilometers away, explosives hurled even greater distances to devastate large areas, weapons whose individual attacks were too fast-moving for even an elite shinobi to dodge and shot out by the score... these were all bad enough, but Iruka swore that he would never tell anyone of even the _possibility_ of atomic weaponry unless it was to warn against its development. It was too close to the superweapon sought by Pein, and there would always be fools and madmen that would seek to use such a weapon if it was available. That this world had experienced plenty of wars since the advent of atomic weapons also proved that Pein's insane plan would never have worked.

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Luna persisted enthusiastically in her training, and managed to mold chakra for the first time in late November. It took several more weeks of hard work, but she eventually managed to channel a trickle of it to her fingertips. Her proud smile outshone the glowing light seal when she showed her progress to her parents that evening. Iruka felt some pride in her as well - many students took upwards of a year to reach this point, though they were significantly younger, and Luna was a very dedicated student.

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Even as well as he was getting to know the Lovegoods and their culture, he still required their help in selecting gifts for each of his hosts in the leadup to their winter solstice holiday. Apparently, despite not being adherents of the dominant religion practiced in Britain, the magicals of the country had somewhat adopted its holiday traditions, such as gift-giving, singing special songs, and bringing a cut-down evergreen tree indoors to decorate. Iruka felt distinctly awkward when he discovered that gathering with family was also a major part of this holiday's celebration, not wanting to intrude on the Lovegoods' time as a family, but when he offered to spend a few days at the Leaky Cauldron to give them time to spend together as just family both Xeno and Pandora immediately insisted that he stay and join them in their celebrations. It was with a warmed heart and suspiciously moist eyes that the orphaned bachelor found himself welcomed as a sort of unofficial cousin of the Lovegood family.

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It was with great relief that Iruka received his Apparation license in late January. The method of travel was, like other magical modes of transport, quite uncomfortable, but the mobility and freedom it offered was too valuable to pass up. His first few lessons from Xeno and Pandora had been unspectacular, with him staring vainly at his destination a few feet away; he had been assured that this was typical, and that they were in no way laughing at the expressions he made or his fruitless spins in place. Partial successes left him missing failure but marveling at the ability of magical healing to readily reattach severed body parts. After his first incident of splinching, he'd understood why Luna wasn't allowed to watch his lessons, and why a license was required.

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Luna's tenth birthday party was small in attendance but large in enthusiasm. The only attendees from outside the Rook had been Ginny Weasley and her father, and Iruka had used the opportunity to gift Arthur copies of several children's "How it Works" books as a slightly belated birthday present.

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Winter turned to spring, as it generally does, and things continued apace. It was in early June that Pandora and Iruka admitted something they had been trying to deny for several months: Their research had stalled. They had both reached the limits of their knowledge and the available resources. When discussing how they could possibly expand their search and progress further, Pandora informed him that there was really only one source in Britain of rare tomes and esoteric knowledge outside of the jealously-guarded private libraries of the pureblood aristocracy, and she wasn't comfortable leaving Luna home alone to go off researching. This left only one practical option, which defined their plan.

Umino Iruka was going to Hogwarts.

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 **A/N: Dun-dun-dunnn! I'm certain you're utterly _shocked_ by that last development, right? Yeah, didn't think so.  
**

 **In case you're wondering why the boost to magical strength isn't mentioned when discussing the benefits of shinobi training, it's because none of them know that'll happen. That's not to say that nobody will ever notice that Iruka's students all tend to be well above-average in magical power, but that's years (in-story) down the road.**

 **Lots of time-skips this chapter, since most of what was going on was research and domestic life, neither of which are particularly exciting. If somebody wants to write some fluffier scenes or omake of Iruka with the Weasleys and the Lovegoods, be my guest - I'd happily consult with you if desired, and assuming it all fits with how I'm intending to portray the events and characters, I'd point people to it in at least my A/N.**

 **My intent is to, when I post this chapter, go back and tweak the chapter titles to reflect that this is all part of Book Zero (since it'll all be part of the same fic). Yell at me by PM if I forget, please.**

 **Confession time: I've been in a bit of a writing slump this past month. Remember how I mentioned having to struggle more on the less 'landmark' scenes? Well, I'm currently in the middle of Book Two, and until I actually get to the Chamber incident I've got a lot of the 'stitching together' to do. Thankfully, my one-year buffer is still intact, and I am now somewhat vindicated in keeping a buffer.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Lonely Devil" by Ezit Meti - a short Doctor Who story that does a truly brilliant job of making the reader feel sorry for the most unsympathetic of beings.**

 **Posted on 13 August 2017**


	10. 0-10: Teaching

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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It was Monday, the seventeenth of June, and Albus Dumbledore was in his office awaiting a visitor. He had heard, of course, about Pandora Lovegood's apparent accident last spring, and about the strange traveler that had arrived seemingly as a result. Iruka Umino was certainly an enigma; the man had no documented history prior to his arrival, and was selling magical diagrams like nothing Albus had ever seen before. There was one of his flame suppression 'seals' in the Headmaster's desk drawer, for Severus to look over and determine whether it would potentially interfere with the obstacle he was creating. The venerable wizard had already examined the simple scroll both visually and magically, and could only conclude that it must share some common ground with runic scripts.

Apparently this Mr. Umino had been spending much of the last year collaborating with Pandora on her research, seeking both the source of her mishap and a method by which he could return to his mysterious homeland. None of Albus's contacts had ever heard of Hi no Kuni, Konohagakure, or anything else the man spoke of in relation to himself. It would not be the first time that a small magical community had sequestered itself away from the wider world; Avalon, Shangri-La, El Dorado - all had hidden themselves behind powerful magics centuries ago, and had little to no contact since. On the other hand, this left the man with no references as to his character or abilities, no reputation by which he might be considered, and while his behavior since his arrival had been entirely benign, his mysterious past did warrant some suspicion of his true motives.

Last Sunday at breakfast, the Headmaster had received an owl from the enigmatic traveler, asking if he might arrange access to Hogwarts' library and possibly the expertise of its faculty in order to further pursue his and Mrs. Lovegood's research, as they had exhausted their own available resources. After considering the matter for a couple of days, Albus responded to the man's letter, indicating that they should meet, and that today would be the earliest day when he would be free as the Hogwarts Express had departed for London the previous morning and the castle was now settling into its summer lull. Mr. Umino had replied, agreeing to meet that afternoon.

In the meantime, Hogwarts' Headmaster had investigated the man that would soon be visiting him, seeking what little additional information he could find. Molly and Arthur had both spoken highly of the man, having met him several times through their neighbors: They said he seemed friendly and intelligent, if quiet, but was shockingly ignorant about many things both magical and muggle; he didn't even know how to ride a broom! Albus's contacts at Gringotts were able to confirm that the bank regularly bought seals, though given the fact that goblins lived primarily underground and in enclosed spaces, the fire-sealing scrolls would certainly be valuable to them as a way to avert disaster without causing serious collateral damage. Overall, the picture that was painted was somewhat similar to Remus Lupin - that of a reclusive but congenial academic.

Now Albus Dumbledore would at last meet the mysterious Iruka Umino face-to-face. He was eager to learn more about the man and his origins, and at most other times would have had few reservations about inviting him into the castle and perhaps even exploring the man's research himself to sate his oft-neglected academic curiosity. This year, however, was special; given what and who would be arriving in a few months, Albus had to take a much more vigilant approach to anyone, particularly a stranger, suddenly wanting to spend a lot of time inside his school...

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The fireplace of the Three Broomsticks flared green, disgorging Umino Iruka in his finest set of midnight-blue robes. Nodding congenially to the rather buxom publican, he cleaned his robes with a wave of his wand and stepped out into Hogsmeade Village, immediately feeling grateful for the cooling charms he'd placed on his robes as the warm afternoon sun shone down on him. A glance around showed him streets of dirt or cobblestones, with low buildings in a rustic style. If one changed the designs of the buildings somewhat, it wouldn't have looked particularly out of place in the rural areas of the Elemental Nations. The whole village exuded a feeling of busy peace and simplicity; even the air was fresher and cleaner than he'd experienced in London. He set off following the directions Xeno had given him (and Pandora had corrected somewhat) to make his way up to Hogwarts Castle. After his third turn, the castle itself came into view for the first time.

It was, in a word, breathtaking. Situated on a clifftop overlooking a nearby lake, Hogwarts was a massive structure of soaring towers and crenellated walls. While he had seen taller buildings both at home and in London, none of them matched the grandeur of the stone fortress before him that was made all the more impressive by the fact that it had just celebrated its thousandth birthday. Unlike most fortified structures Iruka had seen, Hogwarts Castle was not intimidating or imposing, but instead seemed almost welcoming.

Reaching the edge of the grounds, he was met by a man of impossibly large size, whose long shaggy black hair and beard were lightly dusted with grey. This one-man welcoming committee was dressed in dirt-streaked clothing of a simple cut and stout fabric, with a vest made of animal skins. In contrast to his imposing appearance, the man's bearing was relaxed and open, and he waved Iruka over as the chuunin approached. "Yeh'll be Mister Umino, then?" The man's voice was as large as the rest of him; even speaking normally, he was almost as loud as Maito Gai.

"That's right. I have an appointment with Headmaster Dumbledore in his office; may I take it that you'll be my guide?" Iruka enquired with a friendly smile, extending his hand.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper an' Keeper o' the Keys an' Grounds here at Hogwarts, but jus' call me Hagrid," the now-named Hagrid smiled as he shook Iruka's hand (and half his forearm). "And yeah, I'll be showin' yeh up ter the Headmaster's office. Hogwarts is a beautiful place, but it can be a mite confusin' to those as aren't used to findin' their way 'round."

The two proceeded amiably up to the castle, Iruka nearly jogging at times to keep up with Hagrid's longer strides. As they walked, Hagrid pointed out and named various features of the castle and grounds, such as the Forbidden Forest and his own hut nearby, the Black Lake, the Astronomy, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor towers, and others. He also kept up a near-constant stream of anecdotes about some of the things he'd seen in his decades on staff.

Both men were laughing at a story of a prank fifteen years earlier when Iruka sensed a projectile coming at him from behind. He reflexively sidestepped, watching the toy balloon filled with mud splatter on the stone floor in front of them. Turning, he beheld a garishly-dressed translucent little man floating in the air with a disappointed pout on his face. "Why do you have to go and spoil Peeves's fun? Just wanted to give you a little extra decoration for your meeting!"

"PEEVES!"

At the shout, the little man flew down the corridor, cackling, disappearing through the first wall to get in his way. From the other direction came the shouter, a grizzled old man carrying a mop and an equally grizzled (and similarly old) cat. His mien of fury intensified when he beheld the splash of mud on the floor, but softened to grudging respect when he turned to Hagrid. "Bloody poltergeist, always another mess. Where'd he run off to this time, Hagrid?"

"Down the corridor the other way - reckon he'd be at the courtyard by now if he kept on. Seems 'e decided ter try an' give Mister Umino 'is own version of a Hogwarts welcome." The man nodded curtly and turned to the mud, beginning to mop while muttering sulfurously about irritating poltergeists and miserable brats always making more work for him, while Iruka and Hagrid continued on their way with the cat watching them until they were out of sight.

"That'd be Filch," Hagrid explained a minute later, "and 'is cat, Mrs. Norris. 'E's the caretaker 'ere, y'see, and Peeves is always drivin' 'im spare what with the messes 'e makes. Only poltergeist at Hogwarts, Peeves is, usually pretty harmless, but always makin' trouble for summat."

Iruka nodded absently, watching as a pair of what could only be ghosts crossed the corridor, their conversation cutting in and out sharply as they emerged from one wall and passed into the other ("...should give him another chance..." was all he could make out).

The pair continued onward, chatting as they climbed their way through the castle. Encountering the famed moving staircases was what his sensei would have called an 'interesting experience', and left him wondering how anyone could reliably navigate the castle's highly variable arrangement. Eventually, they came to a large statue of some sort of winged oni, to which Hagrid spoke the words "sugar quills". This caused the statue to stand up and step aside, revealing a doorway behind that led to an enclosed spiral staircase. Hagrid stepped onto the stairs and they began to twist and rise, which led Iruka to hop on a couple of steps below.

Soon, the two stepped off the rising stairs onto a landing before a large wooden door. Hagrid knocked (relatively) gently, eliciting an immediate response of "Come in, Hagrid" from within. After the large gamekeeper opened the door and stepped through, Iruka followed and got his first real look at the office of arguably the most powerful wizard in Britain.

The office of Hogwarts' Headmaster was spacious, though the numerous bookshelves and tables throughout the circular room diminished the feeling of space somewhat (as did standing next to Hagrid). Light streamed in through numerous windows, and the air was full of soft whirring and puffing sounds made by the strange silver mechanisms that littered every flat surface not already covered in books, each active in its own unknown task. Further up, the walls were largely hidden by numerous portraits of aged wizards and witches, their occupants mostly either sleeping or feigning sleep. A large fireplace yawned on one wall, though in deference to the weather it was currently empty, and a set of stairs near the far wall led up to a small landing and another door. Beside the stairs and in front of one of the windows was a tall perch, on which sat the largest non-summoned bird Iruka had ever seen, with resplendent red and orange plumage (he assumed that this was Dumbledore's famous phoenix). Also nearby and standing out in the office full of bright colors and gleaming metal was a very worn and tattered old conical hat sitting on a shelf. Iruka took all of this in with his first glance, before focusing his attention on the heavy claw-footed desk in front of the stairs, and the man between it and the throne-like chair behind it.

Albus Dumbledore was tall and thin, easily at least six or eight centimeters taller than Iruka, and his tall pointy hat only enhanced the impression of height. His hair and beard were both completely white and both over half a meter long, and his sky-blue eyes twinkled from behind half-moon spectacles. His robes and hat were of a bold maroon, embroidered in golden thread with runes from various languages, which tended to move around on the fabric when watched.

"Ah, Mister Umino," the Headmaster greeted warmly, "welcome to Hogwarts." He turned briefly to the gamekeeper "Thank you, Hagrid, you may go." The large man nodded at the dismissal and left, closing the door behind him, as Dumbledore beckoned Iruka forward. "Please," he said, conjuring a plush, overstuffed violet armchair with a casual wave of his wand, "have a seat."

As Iruka walked over to the chair, he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on his back. A quick check using reflective surfaces didn't show anyone else in the office, and none of the portraits were showing open interest, but the feeling persisted, leaving the veteran shinobi slightly on edge. When seating himself, he made sure to jostle the armchair slightly to better position himself in case the unknown observer attacked. Still, he continued to hide his wariness, masking it somewhat with his genuine uncertainty of whether he and the Headmaster could reach an accommodation.

Dumbledore sat as well. "I understand that you have been working with Pandora Lovegood in her research, but have reached an impasse. May I ask how you believe Hogwarts might help?"

"Information, mostly; I still know very little about the magic used here in Britain, and while Mrs. Lovegood is certainly knowledgeable she can't know everything. In short, we've reached the limits of what we can do with the knowledge and references we have, and Hogwarts' Library is regarded as one of the finest magical libraries in the world. While it's hardly likely to have an immediate way to get me home, there may very well be information that could prove key to completing our research. Of course, ideally I would also want to be able to consult with members of the faculty, including yourself, as many are recognized as experts in various fields and might have invaluable insights."

"That is what I had assumed, but it's always best to be clear on such things. Hogwarts has hosted guests from time to time - foreign students, guest lecturers, visiting scholars - but another possibility suggested itself to me since I received your first owl. These 'seals' you draw are quite unique, and should you manage to return to your homeland, we could well be left with another magical skill effectively lost to history. There is, however, a potential solution to this." Here the twinkling of the Headmaster's eyes grew more pronounced. "You have previously given your profession as 'teacher'; would you consider teaching some of our students how to make seals?"

Iruka was left dumbfounded. Of all the ways he had pictured this meeting going, _none_ of them included it turning into a job interview. "I... I would need to know under what terms and conditions I would be teaching such a class, and of course would want some time to think about it."

"Of course, of course!" Dumbledore beamed, "It is several weeks, at least, before any final decision need be made. I suspect it will help, however, if you understand more about how things are done here at Hogwarts and what such a position would entail..."

Over the course of the next hour and a half, Iruka and the Headmaster discussed class sizes and schedules, student ages, faculty salaries and accommodations, requirements for a suitable classroom and supplies, logistical minutiae, and even a bit about fuuinjutsu and Pandora's research. It was a hopeful and mostly-convinced Iruka that was led back out of the castle by Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, a stern professional that the chuunin found himself immediately respecting.

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Once the wards indicated that his guest had passed beyond the gargoyle, Albus turned to the side and addressed a patch of empty air. "So, old friend, what are your thoughts on our potential Professor Umino?"

The air shimmered as Alastor Moody removed the invisibility cloak he'd been standing under. "My first thought is that I'm gettin' too old to be standing around for hours on end trying to hide. Trying and _failing_ , I might add."

"You believe he spotted you somehow?"

"Not spotted, no, he never looked right at me, but even before he sat down he knew the two of you weren't alone. He shifted the chair a bit as he sat, made sure he had room to move and fight if I turned out to be somethin' unfriendly. Never let his guard down the entire time until the door shut behind him. And that ain't the only odd thing, either."

"Soon as the man stepped in the room, he was scanning it with his eyes, lookin' for threats, entrances, exits, cover... I know the look, but he did it as fast and automatic as somebody like me, or Scrimgeour - somebody that's been in the fires for decades. He was armed, too, and I don't just mean his wand. Had a couple of knives on him, strange ones, like this." Alastor transfigured a scrap of parchment into a short knife: Its blade was broad and triangular, with a thick diamond cross-section and a short ricasso tapering down to a cloth-wrapped cylindrical handle that terminated in a large ring-shaped pommel. The hilt wrappings were charcoal grey, and the entire rest of the weapon had a matte black finish. Overall, the weapon was just short of a foot in length and perhaps two inches at its widest point. It was like no weapon Albus had ever seen: Simple, plain, and utilitarian, it was clearly not a weapon made to be seen (in fact, it seemed specifically intended to remain _un_ seen), but rather a weapon made to be _used_.

"Hidden weapons, vigilance on _my_ level, even the way he moved - the man is a fighter, Albus. Probably has been most of his life. Plenty of scars to show for it - looks like he's found himself at the wrong end of a blade quite a few times. Still fighting fit, too, not out of shape like most wizards."

Albus frowned thoughtfully. "Mysteries upon mysteries - there is clearly more to Mister Umino than meets the eye. The critical question is: Can he be trusted?"

"You know I'm not the best one to answer that, Albus. Trust doesn't come easy for me, after everything, but while Umino clearly knows how to handle himself in a fight, doesn't mean he means you or the school any harm. 'Course, if he does mean ill, I'm not rightly sure what he'd do - seems he knows lots about fightin' but not much about magic."

Albus nodded. "Indeed, indeed. His efforts are credited with saving Pandora Lovegood's life when she was injured, but from what my sources gather he did so without using any magic; he used pressure to help slow the bleeding from many of her wounds, and actually sewed several of them shut with thread! I'm told a couple of Healers are quietly investigating the technique for use on wounds that resist magical treatment. Still, even if Mister Umino were to learn a great deal about magic, his ability to use it against others would be somewhat limited by his power level."

"You're aware, I'm sure, that a wizard's magical strength grows throughout most of their life, though this growth slows considerably around age twenty?" At Alastor's nod, he continued. "One of the skills I have developed over the years is the ability to sense the general strength of a person's magic, and Mister Umino's would compare unfavorably with that of quite a few of the graduates and upper-year students I saw off yesterday morning. It may well be that his people generally lack both magical strength and knowledge, leaving them to rely predominantly upon more mundane methods; these 'seals' may in fact be some of the only magic his people can perform."

"Whatever he can or can't do," Alastor stated, "he didn't show any signs I could see of bein' dishonest. Hid stuff, sure, but that's just sense when you don't know if you can trust somebody. My advice is let him have the job, but keep an eye on him - what he reads, who he talks to, where he goes. He's probably no trouble, but 'probably' ain't enough. Constant vigilance!" His mind spoken, Alastor nodded and stomped off to the fireplace to Floo home, leaving Albus to his thoughts.

Those thoughts largely mirrored Alastor's assessment. He had noticed the slight wariness in Mister Umino, and had suspected that he might be more than he appeared. A feather-light touch of passive Legilimency had shown the presence of at least rudimentary Occlumency shields, a surprising skill for one supposedly so new to magic, but he was certain he had avoided detection. Still, the fact that the man carried _knives_ concealed on his person was something of a shock; a simple utility knife or potions knife would have been normal, but another look at Alastor's transfigured blade reaffirmed the fact that these were clearly _weapons_ , not mere tools, and their harshly functional design added to the other signs to indicate that Mr. Umino was well-versed in their usage.

Taken all together, the portrait this information painted was clearly incomplete. There was surely something, some fact about the man and his background that would be key in unraveling the mystery that was Iruka Umino. Still, neither he nor Alastor had detected any hints of malice in his visitor. Albus decided that he would give Mr. Umino a chance to prove himself, as Professor Umino, and continue to observe in search of that critical clue. Added to everything else, September would likely mark the start of the most interesting year at Hogwarts in some time.

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 **A/N: And thus ends Book 0. Tune in in two weeks for the beginning of Book 1: Umino Iruka and the School of Magic! I'm sure it comes as a surprise to exactly none of you that Iruka is ending up as a teacher at Hogwarts just in time for Harry's first year. The overarching plot of Book 1 won't deviate too much from that of Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone, but I intend for changes to gradually accumulate. Successive books will get progressively more divergent from canon, to the point where my current plans for Book 3 have it quickly going off the rails entirely, and Book 4 more paralleling the rails with the occasional intersection. After that, well...**

 **There's something I tried to do in this chapter, a slight trick with the writing style. Imaginary cookies to anyone that successfully spots it, and I'll explain next chapter.**

 **Something that hit me shortly after posting Chapter 9, while working on Chapter 36: There are some things that have become so deeply ingrained in fanon that I can no longer find the canonical underpinnings (if any). Two things in particular I see constantly in fanfics, to the point where they seem like they're canonical, but I cannot for the life of me find any hint as to their source. If anybody knows where in the canon it's mentioned that there are fictional children's books about Harry's life, and/or what is used as evidence that Dumbledore is absolutely and totally against lethal force, please let me know! I'm assuming any reference to the former would be somewhere in Chamber of Secrets, but I've already reread the section at the Burrow with no results, so ideally I'd ask that responses are more specific than "in book X".**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Benefits of old laws" by ulktante - When Voldemort is resurrected in the graveyard, something in him has begun to change. Now he's reclaimed a more human appearance and wants to claim the Slytherin lordship, but can't do so without an heir. That heir needs to be a Parselmouth, and there's only one in Britain besides him... A truly brilliant inversion of many aspects of the Potterverse as we know it, with an increasingly human Voldemort seeking to help and protect Harry while Dumbledore grows more unhinged and dangerous.**

 **Posted 27 August 2017**

 **Edited 27 August 2017 (A/N only) to add fic recommendation.**

 **Edited 10 September (opening A/N only) to add disclaimer**


	11. 1-1: Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Poll on my profile, details in end A/N**

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 **Book 1: Umino Iruka and the School of Magic**

Just because the students wouldn't arrive until September, it didn't mean that Iruka had to wait to begin learning. Soon after confirming his agreement to the little-used position of Adjunct Professor, he began regularly visiting Hogwarts. The remainder of June and much of July were spent largely getting to know the grounds, castle, and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Headmaster Dumbledore was... eccentric. He had a definite presence and charisma, and was said to be both learned and powerful. His personality, on the other hand, tended to swing somewhat between a kindly grandfather and a crazy childish uncle, with a keen intellect hidden behind both of them. Iruka also got the sense that the man was trying to figure him out, which left the two effectively dancing around each other as both viewed the other as something of a mystery to be solved.

Minerva McGonagall was a stern, professional, efficient, no-nonsense kind of person. While her manner could get a bit brusque at times, a genuine warmth shone through when she discussed her students. Iruka found himself liking and respecting the older woman immensely.

The head of Ravenclaw House was a lot of fun. Though diminutive in stature, Filius Flitwick clearly had a mind to rival a Nara, and his past as a champion competitive duelist indicated that one underestimated Hogwarts' Charms Professor at their peril. The two had a number of fascinating discussions on a variety of academic topics, though unsurprisingly fuuinjutsu and Charms came up most often.

If there was one word to describe Pomona Sprout, it was "earthy" - and not just because of the seemingly everpresent soil marking whatever she wore. The Hufflepuff head was very grounded and practical, leaving academic concerns (other than teaching) for others while she concentrated on that which lives and grows. Based on the descriptions of the four Houses, Iruka suspected that as he was now, he would likely be wearing the black and yellow of Hufflepuff; he greatly admired their House traits of diligence and loyalty. Others might dismiss them as weaklings, but people used to say the same things about Konoha's focus on bonds and teamwork, often just before getting taken down by a well-coordinated squad of Leaf-nin. He carefully avoided thinking too much about the 'hard work' aspect to avoid mental images of bowl cuts and green spandex.

In contrast, the word that summed up Severus Snape was " _unpleasant_ ". The man's dour, sneering, solitary nature reminded the chuunin uncomfortably of a young Uchiha Sasuke, a comparison only strengthened by his black hair and eyes. Why Mr. Snape was teaching when his few terse comments indicated a profound dislike of children was a mystery, though one Iruka wasn't quite comfortable asking his soon-to-be-colleagues about just yet. He just hoped that the Potions professor's caustic attitude was toned down for his classes.

The school's resident Healer, Poppy Pomfrey, sought Iruka out during one of his visits to discuss the non-magical first aid he'd used to help Pandora Lovegood. This led to a two-hour discussion of nonmagical medical techniques and their potential to help magical Healers, during which Iruka ended up learning several simple healing and diagnostic charms that would make him more effective if he ever again needed to render first aid. He could already see " **Episkey** " being said a LOT after Academy spars.

While several of the castle's ghosts were quite personable and engaging, Cuthbert Binns had such a soporific effect even in ordinary conversation that Iruka reflexively attempted to release any genjutsu on him. Apparently Pandora, charitable as ever, had actually _under_ stated just how utterly boring the ghostly History professor was.

Iruka had sought out Septima Vector to establish a good working relationship so that he could consult with her as needed in his research. He found the Arithmancy Mistress to be highly similar to Professor McGonagall in both demeanor and competence, leaving him to wonder if that personality type was common among British witches of a certain age. Regardless, she seemed intrigued by his and Pandora's work, and agreed to look over Iruka's calculations on occasion and offer her own insights.

Due to the common threads between fuuinjutsu and Runic magic, the staff member with whom Iruka spent the most time not related to his job at Hogwarts was Bathsheda Babbling. The second-youngest of Hogwarts' faculty (only slightly older than Severus Snape), she was a very friendly and energetic person with a tremendous enthusiasm for her subject and the teaching thereof. Babs, as she insisted he call her, was fascinated by fuuinjutsu and committed to attending Iruka's classes as often as possible. She was also very supportive of his and Pandora's research, offering to answer his questions and suggesting that he audit some of her class sessions to improve his own knowledge of Runes. He often walked away from their conversations satisfied and informed but slightly exhausted.

An overpowering smell of alcohol presaged Iruka's first (and thus far only) meeting with Sybil Trelawney, the reclusive professor of Divination who seemed to converse almost entirely in dark portents for anyone that caught her attention. He was left to wonder how competent she could really be after she predicted his death for the third time in ten minutes, with each prediction clearly excluding both others.

Madam Irma Pince, the school's librarian, was the kind of person who controls only a small domain but compensates by wielding harsh discipline within said domain. She seemed reluctant to admit that anyone, student or staff member, might actually have a reason and a right to make use of the library's books, and threatened dire consequences should any of her precious volumes be damaged or defaced in even the slightest way.

The castle itself was beautiful and wondrous, but also confusing and more than a little frustrating at times. While he would begrudgingly admit that its constantly-variable layout could contribute greatly to a competent defense by confusing and misdirecting attackers, Hogwarts had only rarely been seriously threatened by attacking forces, most of which had been composed primarily of former students who wouldn't be thus hindered. It was also clear that Hogwarts was able to hold far more students than currently attended, as there were numerous unused classrooms and other facilities. In fact, it seemed as if almost half the rooms in the castle were either vacant or outright abandoned. Apparently low birth rates had combined with two bloody conflicts in the past fifty years to leave Britain's magical population at a low from which it was only barely beginning to recover.

For all of its illogical and at times impractical aspects, Hogwarts Castle was still, for lack of a better term, a truly magical place. The first time he'd stepped into the Great Hall, it had taken his breath away, though a smiling Professor McGonagall had told him that it was even more impressive on feast nights. It seemed to Iruka that he discovered some new wonder or curiosity with every visit, and were he of a more academically curious mindset, he thought he could happily spend the rest of his life exploring the wealth of history contained within its walls. As it was, there were a couple of occasions where he had lost track of time just chatting with an interesting ghost or portrait, learning about yet another facet of the world he had arrived in over a year before.

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Because it was an entirely new subject, with no official exams available at O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. level, and because it was as yet undetermined how long Iruka would be staying (though he had committed to teach out the end of the year if he found a way home), Iruka's fuuinjutsu class would function more like a club, taking place outside of normal class times and open to students of every House and year (as well as to faculty, of which several had already expressed interest). This meant that he could well be dealing with a very large group, but both initial and long-term interest were impossible to predict, so his office and nearby quarters were located near several unused classrooms and other chambers of varying sizes so that he could easily switch class locations based on attendance. He would also be making frequent trips back to the Rook, to share his results with Pandora more completely and interactively than a letter would allow, and to continue supervising Luna's training and just spend time with the precocious ten-year-old that had practically adopted him as an older uncle.

While he had heard of house-elves before, meeting Flippy was still a somewhat startling experience. The tiny magical servant had been assigned to his direct command at need, (though she would still be cooking and cleaning when he didn't require her services) and would handle relocating his teaching supplies between classrooms and keeping them properly stocked. She would also be handling his other needs, such as his laundry and delivering meals, snacks, and tea when he wanted them in his office or quarters. He was also informed that, should he become lost as those new to Hogwarts often did, he could call upon her for guidance as between them the elves knew every inch of the castle they cared for. This had already borne fruit, as she had shown him a room on the seventh floor that was perfect for training in private, meaning he could finally shake some of the rust off his ninjutsu and shurikenjutsu skills. Her description of the room's capabilities did warrant further study, but given the number of things Iruka was already trying to learn, it would likely have to wait.

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In the waning days of August, Iruka was called one morning for the first full staff meeting of the 1991-92 Hogwarts school year, and found himself seated at a large circular table in the Great Hall, between Hagrid and Babs, and looking at the rest of the school's staff. Most he had met at least once, but there were still a few new faces to learn. As his various new colleagues arrived, he was introduced to the school's flying instructor / Quidditch referee and the professors of Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Finally, once everyone had arrived and taken their seats, Headmaster Dumbledore stood and raised his hand for silence, which was quickly given. "Now that we are all here, we had best begin, as the term will soon be upon us and Hogwarts shall be ready. First of note is our staffing changes. Professor Quirrell has returned from his sabbatical and will be taking up the Defense Against the Dark Arts post." Dumbledore paused to allow the brief round of applause for the pale, nervous-looking man in the purple turban who gave a timid bow. "Also, for the first time in many years Hogwarts is hosting a visiting scholar; our new Adjunct Professor Iruka Umino will be offering an extracurricular class in a form of magic unique to his homeland called the Sealing Arts, which will be open to all students and staff who wish to attend." Iruka offered a bow to the table. "Professor Umino is a visitor to Britain, having been transported here by a magical accident which he is still researching in hopes of finding a way back to his elusive home country of Hi no Kuni. I would hope that, time permitting, those of us with relevant knowledge and expertise might provide what assistance we can in his quest to return home."

The next ninety minutes were filled with budgeting discussions and last-minute requests by various staff for whatever supplies they were still lacking for the coming term. From there well into the afternoon, with a break for lunch, was scheduling. Seven years, four Houses, and twelve different classes meant a complicated dance to ensure that no professors and as few students as could be arranged would be left needing to be in two places at once. Some overlap was unavoidable in the latter case, but this was confined to elective classes, and even then the staff aimed to avoid conflicts between pairs of classes that were commonly required together by professions, such as Runes and Arithmancy. Third through fifth years were the worst to schedule, as the first two years didn't have elective classes and many students tended to drop unneeded "core" classes from their schedules after their O.W.L. exams. Complicating matters further (and leading to occasional complaints by and heated words between Professors McGonagall and Snape) was the bitter rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses; placing the two together in a class often resulted in misbehavior by members of both Houses, which was at best disruptive and could be downright dangerous in classes like Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. After settling all of the class schedules, the staff then moved on to the somewhat more tenuous but thankfully less demanding scheduling of extracurricular activities, including Iruka's fuuinjutsu classes (an hour each Tuesdays and Thursdays after dinner, and two hours on Sunday afternoons). He hoped to drum up some interest by showing off a bit of fuuinjutsu after dinner on September second, so that the students would know what the class was actually about. At the suggestion of Professor Flitwick, Iruka also ended up agreeing to teach an introductory Japanese class if there were enough students interested in learning the language.

It was approaching dinner and the last of the administrative details for the coming school year had just been hammered out when Headmaster Dumbledore rose once again. "Finally, before we adjourn, I know many of you are already aware of this, but for those that have not yet been informed: The third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is off limits to anyone wishing to remain among the living. I shall be warning the children of this at the Sorting Feast, but it will likely fall to us as the responsible adults in the castle to watch for any wayward students accidentally tempting fate and steer them back into safer areas."

That this was pronounced in the same calm, matter-of-fact tone the Headmaster had used when budgeting for floor polish was more than a little shocking to Iruka, a shock compounded by the decidedly unsurprised faces of his fellow staff. True, some looked exasperated or resigned, but all treated this as a relatively normal occurrence. "What about students _deliberately_ tempting fate?" He asked, "Isn't there any way to just block entry outright, or at least place warning signs and some kind of alert ward?"

Dumbledore seemed taken aback for a moment by Iruka's questions, before favoring the chuunin with a twinkle-eyed smile. "Sadly, the corridor must remain accessible to certain authorised staff members, so we cannot simply seal it off, and no ward would be able to take hold without first disabling the wards of Hogwarts, at least in that area, which would pose an obviously unacceptable risk. Your point about warning signs is well-made," he said in a tone that _almost_ managed to avoid being slightly patronizing, "but I'm sure that will be all that is truly necessary. Some of our more rebellious students may test their bravery somewhat by approaching or even slightly passing the warning signs, but they will turn back far clear of actual danger. Prior to young David Gudgeon's misadventure, one could often see groups playing a similar game with the Whomping Willow, and Madam Pomfrey was more than able to heal his injuries."

Did the man never actually interact with his students? "While I don't have much experience with homicidal foliage," being far away from the front lines of the Fourth Great War meant that he'd never encountered a single Zetsu, "I have ample experience with teenagers. The 'game' you describe doesn't surprise me at all, but there is a key difference with this corridor. Unless you tell the children _why_ the corridor is dangerous, they won't know where the actual boundary is between safety and danger and they could easily cross that boundary. Teens generally tend to _push_ boundaries whenever the opportunity arises, so I would expect several students to seek out the forbidden corridor before their second night here, especially if it's also mysterious. If the hazardous area can't be made inaccessible to the students, my best advice would be to make it unappealing. I don't know what's there that's so dangerous, but if you could describe it as something that is dangerous but uninteresting then very few students would be likely to actively investigate it. Perhaps say there's some sort of infestation of pests, toxic mould, or other relatively mundane hazard that can't be resolved during term?"

Now the Headmaster's expression was far less approving, as he spoke with a tone of determined finality. "I pride myself on having not lied to my students in the past, and shall not be starting now. Warning signs shall be posted around the forbidden corridor, and the students warned not to enter. I am sure that this will be more than sufficient to keep all but the most determined rule-breakers out, and they would likely find a way in despite almost any efforts we might make. Now, I believe we all have tasks and duties requiring our attention, so this meeting is adjourned."

As Dumbledore swept from the room and the rest of the staff began to rise, chattering in twos and threes, Iruka caught looks of approval and commiseration from Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and McGonagall; the last of the three approached him. "I've known Albus Dumbledore for many years now, and I'm afraid that he is not easily shifted once he sets his course. We have all, at times, tried and failed to convince him that he was making a mistake on something, but only rarely do such efforts bear fruit. In the end, we are generally left hoping that he is correct, or at least that if he is wrong that it does not cause any real harm. To be fair," she reassured him, "Albus _is_ right far more often than not, having likely forgotten more about magic than most of us will ever learn. He was, unfortunately, correct regarding sealing or warding the corridor, as neither are practical options, and we have no staff to spare to act as guards. The portraits and house-elves have already been asked to alert us if they notice anyone entering the prohibited area - they are hardly foolproof, but it is the best we have available."

Iruka nodded sourly. "That will have to do, I guess. I just hope the Headmaster doesn't phrase his announcement in a way that's more bait to the curious than warning to the cautious."

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It is a near-universal rule that no matter how experienced and organized a person is, no matter how much opportunity they have to prepare, there will always be at least one thing they've either forgotten or left to the last minute. Thus, even with the staff numbering less than twenty people, Hogwarts was still somehow buzzing with activity on the first of September. Mr. Filch's sunny disposition was clearly not improved by the imminent arrival of several hundred walking mess-makers, and he was apparently working out his frustrations in advance by vigorously polishing various suits of armor. These armors and the weapons they carried had fascinated Iruka, being so different in design from anything he had seen in the Elemental Nations. With the help of a number of paintings and tapestries, not to mention his own training and experience, he thought he had at least a reasonable idea of how they would have been used, but it was still intriguing to see how similar goals (keeping your soldiers alive while rendering the enemy less so) could be approached from such different angles.

The house-elves had freshly dusted every classroom, the dormitory beds were made and ready to receive their residents, hearths had been lit throughout the school to ward off some of the chill inherent in a drafty stone castle in cooler weather. Everything was essentially ready, and by afternoon the bustle had become the activity born of anticipation, everyone in the castle doing whatever they could find to keep busy in a way that felt at least somewhat productive, knowing that they would later wish they'd gotten more done in advance when the hectic schedule of term began. And begin it would, tonight, as the Hogwarts Express was already busily steaming its way north.

It was time for school to begin.

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 **A/N: Regarding the last line in the penultimate section - yeah, we all know how that goes.  
**

 **Yes, Iruka is training in the Room of Requirement. He asked Flippy if there was a good place in or near the castle for him to train in private, and she gave the same answer Dobby did in OotP. No, the Room does not provide animated shinobi opponents, time-compression fields, libraries of lost ninjutsu, etc. - again, I'm trying to avoid a lot of the high-speed power gains common in fanfiction. For a look at Iruka's training room, you'll have to wait for Chapter 17 (or 1-7).**

 **Overall, as far as Dumbledore goes, no I am not bashing him. I am trying to write a character that is intelligent, capable, and well-meaning, but also stubborn, secretive, controlling, and hubristic. It's not exactly how I usually picture his character (my mental picture of APWBD is more of a callous chessmaster), but the more benevolent (and closer-to-canon, in theory) version was the only way I could realistically get Iruka into Hogwarts long-term.**

 **The stylistic bit last chapter was that I attempted to write the sections told from Dumbledore's perspective in a different 'voice' so to speak. I try to keep Iruka's sections relatively colloquial, while Dumbledore leans more towards being formal and erudite, bordering on florid at times. It's a policy I intend to stick with whenever I dip out of Iruka's perspective, though it'll be most noticeable in a scene coming up a few chapters from now.**

 **I'm putting a poll up on my profile to help me plan events far ahead of what I'm writing (as I write this A/N, I've just gotten Iruka and co. out of the Chamber of Secrets.): If Umbridge heard that a Dark Lord was plotting to take over the Ministry and push a vicious blood-purist/anti-Muggle/anti-creature agenda, what would she do? For those of you whose answer ends up being "Multiple/Other", please put your answers either in reviews here or in PMs.**

 **Fic Recommendation: 'Cheaters Prosper' by drakensis - What if Naruto had grasped the point of the First Exam, then run with it as only Naruto can? This fic is the hilarious answer.**

 **Posted 10 September 2017**

 **Edited 11 September 2017: Minor tweak to improve the flow of McG's dialog, per a sound recommendation from a reviewer**

 **Edited 5 November 2017: A tweak to Dumbledore's reference to the Whomping Willow; in Prisoner of Azkaban, Remus tells Harry that the game of approaching the WW was forbidden after a boy named Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye. That's said shortly before winter hols in PoA (about 40% of the way through the book), and caused me to edit this chapter. I do my best to keep things canon-compliant outside of intended divergences and their effects.**


	12. 1-2: Sorting

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Underlined text is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone**

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It was true, Iruka reflected as he sat at the Head Table awaiting the students' arrival: Hogwarts' Great Hall was indeed more impressive on a feast night. The golden tableware glittered in the combined light of thousands of floating candles that thankfully managed to not drip wax everywhere. Above, the ceiling mirrored the glitter with its view of the clear night sky, unobstructed by clouds and undimmed by city lights. His fellow staff members were mostly quiet, unwilling or unable to break the anticipatory silence. While they waited, he thought back to earlier that evening.

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"Ah, Professor McGonagall, what can I do for you?" Iruka addressed the older witch as she approached him the afternoon of September First.

"You can call me Minerva, to begin with. We are, after all," she gave him a small but still friendly smile, "going to be colleagues. Other than that, it's more something you may wish to do for yourself. There are a great many traditions in the Wizarding World, quite a few of which are centered here at Hogwarts. One such tradition regards the arrival of new first-year students to the castle. While the rest of the student body is brought up to the school by carriage, the First Years take a more scenic path across the Black Lake. For almost every British witch and wizard, this is their first time seeing Hogwarts Castle in person, and is often a treasured memory. While you have obviously seen the castle already, I do feel that you should see Hogwarts as we all have, and would thus suggest that you accompany Hagrid down to Hogsmeade Station this evening, then return once the sun has set. Hagrid can show you the path to take, and how to use the boats, so that you might get the full experience."

Iruka had done as Minerva suggested, accompanying the towering gamekeeper down to Hogsmeade Station, discussing the arrangements and traditions surrounding the arrival of the students. The creatures harnessed to the carriages were somewhat disturbing in appearance but turned out to be quite gentle, as Hagrid explained at length about Thestrals while quite carefully _not_ asking whose death he had witnessed, for which Iruka was quite thankful. Night fell quickly thanks to the surrounding mountains, and the chuunin bid the friendly juggernaut goodbye until the feast before following the path he'd been shown which the new First Years would be treading later that evening. The narrow path through the dense old forest rounded a bend and opened out suddenly onto the edge of the Black Lake, giving Iruka his second first look at Hogwarts Castle.

If he hadn't already seen the castle previously, he would have been totally awestruck at the view. Hogwarts Castle loomed as a colossal silhouette against the starry sky, sitting proudly atop its outcropping and overlooking the Black Lake, whose surface reflected the castle and enhanced the sight further. Lights shone from every window in the castle, making the nearly-empty castle look full of life and activity. A patriot he may have been, but Iruka could honestly say he had never seen a structure look as beautiful, majestic, and inviting as the school before him. He could only imagine being eleven years old, nervous and excited, far from home and family for the first time, and having this be the first sight of one's new school.

Many people he'd spoken with seemed to regard Hogwarts as much more than merely a school, more than just a place you went to learn and prepare for your eventual career. Konoha's Shinobi Academy was just that - a pragmatic, utilitarian school training children for a career as ninja. Very few of his comrades or former students showed any nostalgic sentiment towards the Academy itself, focusing instead on their youth, innocence, families, and friendships. Hogwarts, though - Hogwarts held a dear place in the hearts of so many, and Iruka was beginning to understand why. It wasn't just a school; it was a work of art, a cultural treasure, a thousand-year accumulation of history, heritage, and tradition. One could well say that the heart of Wizarding Britain was the castle he was now gazing up at.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Iruka made sure to firmly commit the sight to memory (perhaps Ino could show some of the others when he got home?) and climbed into one of the small boats. Two quick taps on the stern sent the boat gliding across the smooth surface of the Black Lake, leaving its passenger to continue looking at the shining castle above him. Eventually, the boat arrived at its destination, a shingle beach in a cave at the base of the cliff. Iruka climbed out and sent the boat back with three swift taps on the prow, before ascending the stairs and returning to the front doors of the castle, only to find a smiling Minerva McGonagall waiting for him.

"Enjoyed the view, I trust?" There was definitely a hint of smug smirk in her smile now, but he decided it was deserved in this case. He gave her a happy nod in return, and the two headed together for the Great Hall as Iruka related his earlier epiphany.

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Soon enough the chuunin's reminiscence was interrupted by the babble of scores of excited young voices, heralding the arrival of the second-through-seventh-year students. The children poured into the Great Hall in a tide of black robes trimmed in red, blue, yellow, and green. Quite a few looked up to scan the Head Table before returning to conversations that included subtle (by their standards) indications towards Iruka and Professor Quirrell. He caught a glimpse of one Weasley Twin elbowing the other and excitedly pointing him out, to which he responded with a smile that clearly said 'Surprised, boys?', evoking laughing grins from the two. Iruka continued to watch as the students took seats, leaving gaps for anticipated first years or for ghosts that had already claimed seats; Gryffindor in red to the left, farthest from the door, followed by Ravenclaw in blue, Hufflepuff in yellow, and Slytherin in green adjacent to the door. By and large the students were loud and boisterous, unsurprising given how long they'd just spent sitting cooped up on a train, though even on such a carefree occasion there were definite divisions between the Houses, with very few students speaking with anyone wearing different trim. All the while, Professor Babbling was living up to her name somewhat, pointing out to him various students of note as they caught her eye.

Eventually the flood of students slowed to a trickle, and Iruka watched as Minerva stepped out into the Entrance Hall, closing the double doors behind her. Minutes later came the muffled booms of three firm knocks on the main doors of the castle, soon followed by Hagrid slipping into the Great Hall and reclosing the doors before hustling to his seat at the far left end of the Head Table. The doors were thrown open once more to admit the Deputy Headmistress leading a line of frightened-looking eleven-year-olds up to the front of the Great Hall, standing on the raised platform that held the Head Table but between the students and faculty. She then set a short three-legged stool directly in front of the Headmaster's seat, and placed upon it a hat that, while ragged, was still in admirable condition for being nearly a thousand years old.

The past seventeen months may have numbed Iruka significantly to the strangeness of this world, but a singing hat was still bizarre (and somewhat off-key). Still, he applauded with everyone else after the song, and watched the sorting proceed, directing his most reassuring smile towards the nervous firsties. As each child was called up, he made sure to memorize their face and name. Several surnames were familiar as being possible relatives of important figures or accused Death Eaters. Iruka chuckled along with everyone else when Neville Longbottom nearly took the Sorting Hat to Gryffindor with him, and watched as it barely touched the slicked-back hair of Draco Malfoy before sending him to Slytherin. A pair of darker-skinned identical twin girls somewhat surprisingly ended up split between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and soon afterwards came a name to which the whole of the Great Hall reacted.

"Potter, Harry!"

Iruka had heard about Harry Potter, when learning about the Blood War ten years back. There had been much speculation about how the so-called "Boy-Who-Lived" had supposedly overcome this world's equivalent of an S-rank criminal at the age of fifteen months. Xeno and Pandora suspected, and Iruka agreed, that it was far more likely something done by the boy's parents, especially his mother who was found between his crib and the empty robes of Voldemort, unarmed and having seemingly died without a fight. A living baby made a better hero for the story than a dead adult, however, and when combined with the still-endemic prejudice against those of non-magical descent, any potential contribution by Lily Potter was swept aside and credit given to her son. Even ten years later, in spite of being almost totally unseen by British magicals in that time, he was still one of their biggest celebrities. His story was almost like a cross between Naruto's and Sasuke's, orphaned as a baby when his parents gave their lives to save his and others', but then heaped with popular adulation. Iruka hoped to see the young Potter in his class, since both his parents and the men whose stories paralleled his were immensely talented, suggesting the possibility of a child with tremendous potential.

Harry Potter himself was largely as he'd been described: Messy black hair (apparently inherited from his father), brilliant emerald eyes (from his mother), round spectacles, and a jagged scar on his forehead (from his would-be murderer). He was also one of the shortest among the first-years, though given the fact that some were nearly a year his senior that wasn't too surprising, with sharp cheekbones suggesting a thin, wiry build. For someone that many hailed as a great warrior of light (despite being eleven years old) and about whom so much had been written, the boy's bearing showed him to be one of the most nervous of his peers. After one of the longest stays under the hat that night, the child was sent to Gryffindor table, which burst into celebration (including Fred and George chanting "We got Potter!") and welcomed him enthusiastically. While Harry was smiling, Iruka noted that he was clearly uncomfortable with the attention, and subtly flinched when his new housemates patted him on the back or head or grabbed his hand to shake. The chuunin teacher's eyes narrowed slightly as he put together several facts he'd seen, and he resolved to keep a close eye on Mister Potter to determine whether he was just seeing things that weren't there, or if the child's background paralleled Naruto's in a darker fashion.

The Sorting continued, and Iruka watched the youngest male Weasley joining his brothers in Gryffindor before Blaise Zabini's journey to Slytherin concluded the event. Minerva rolled up her list and carried away the stool and Hat as Headmaster Dumbledore stood, smiling benevolently down at his students before speaking. "Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" The Headmaster sat as food appeared on platters and in bowls up and down every table. Iruka noted a few dishes from home scattered around each table, taking several pieces from a large plate of tempura to his left. He had provided the castle's house-elves with a book of Japanese recipes (language wasn't the only thing Japan had in common with the Elemental Nations) so that he could have at least an occasional taste of home while at the castle. Now it would seem that they had decided to provide such dishes not just to him but for everyone to try.

Dinner passed in a dull roar of conversation; Iruka made sure to explain the unfamiliar foods to those around him. Babs was, unsurprisingly, cheerful and enthusiastic about trying them, and clearly found shrimp tempura to her liking. The Headmaster was using his wand to levitate at least a bit of each new dish onto his own plate. Professor Snape simply sneered at a nearby dish of edamame as if it had somehow offended him before turning back to his conversation with Professor Quirrell, who simply seemed amused. Overall, the tempura, tonkatsu, and kaarage seemed to be the most well-received of the night's offerings, likely due to the British fondness for fried food.

Eventually, after a massive spread of desserts, the tables were emptied of food and the Headmaster stood once more. The first few start-of-term announcements were clearly routine: No magic in the corridors, the Forbidden Forest is called that for a reason, Quidditch trials second week of term. He then motioned to Professor Quirrell. "We are pleased to welcome Professor Quirinus Quirrell back from his travels. Professor Burbage will remain teaching Muggle Studies, while Professor Quirrell will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." The turbaned man briefly stood and gave a trembling bow as the students applauded. "Also, joining us this year we have a visiting scholar. Adjunct Professor Iruka Umino will be teaching an extracurricular class on the Sealing Arts, a form of magic unique to his homeland. As this is likely something completely unfamiliar to you, he will be demonstrating his art after dinner tomorrow night in the Great Hall. Additionally, if there is sufficient student interest, he will also be teaching those who wish to learn the Japanese language; sign-up sheets for both classes are on your House notice boards."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Iruka fought to keep his face carefully blank at that, even though inside he was wearing a scowl to match that on Minerva's face. That announcement was phrased so badly, it was practically an invitation for foolhardy teens to investigate the mysterious danger.

The evening ended on a somewhat lighter note, or at least a cacophonous jumble of them, with a chaotic rendition of the school song before the students filed out to seek their rest for the night. Classes would be starting tomorrow morning, after all.

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 **A/N: Yeah, Dumbledore does what Dumbledore wants, for the most part.  
**

 **The whole section with Iruka imitating the firsties' path into the castle came to me when writing this chapter, and I just couldn't _not_ do it.**

 **In response to a guest review: Yes, I** _ **could**_ **have Dumbledore become more callous and manipulative after Iruka becomes too indispensable to kick out, but that honestly doesn't particularly fit the story I'm trying to tell.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "A Brother's Love" by LateVMlover - The first in a whole set of short fics (overall set is still ongoing) where Clint Barton finds out that he's got younger half-sisters, currently living in Sunnydale, CA... It's an Avengers/Buffyverse cross focusing heavily on character arcs rather than action.**

 **Posted 24 September, 2017**


	13. 1-3: Class

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Trigger Warning: Mentions of / references to child abuse.**

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The next night, after dinner concluded, Headmaster Dumbledore nodded to Iruka, who stood. "Before you leave, I will be speaking briefly about the Sealing Arts and giving a demonstration to help you decide if you are interested in the lessons I will be giving. Starting this weekend, these lessons will be offered for an hour after dinner on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and for two hours after lunch on Sundays."

Pulling a medium-sized scroll from his robes, Iruka held it out, unrolling the first meter to show the designs within. "This is a seal; more specifically, a storage seal. By drawing the correct characters in the correct arrangement, the seal channels magic to produce an effect, which in this case is to store an item inside." He laid the scroll on the floor in front of him, then released the storage seal to reveal a broad stone brazier on a waist-high pedestal. Several students jumped somewhat at the plume of smoke, but now looked intrigued that a design on paper could store a solid object. Leaving the storage scroll in place, Iruka stood and lit the brazier with a quick charm before withdrawing a second scroll from his robes and unrolling it between him and the brazier. "This seal is somewhat similar, except instead of storing an item for later retrieval, it captures nearby flames as a means of extinguishing fires." Word was followed by deed, as the flames were pulled from the brazier and into the seal. Rolling up and stowing that scroll, Iruka slid forward and re-sealed the brazier.

"The applications of the Sealing Arts are limited only by one's skill and imagination. That storage seal is simply one of the most common; another is the creation of barriers." As he spoke, Iruka placed four tags in a square on the floor, before channeling his chakra into them to create a cubical barrier a meter on a side. Careful to maintain the chakra flow into the barrier, he hopped up on top to demonstrate its solidity. "Now, none of you will be creating one of these right away. Creating seals that work reliably and safely takes training, practice, and more than a little patience, but with talent and hard work it's certainly possible that Wizarding Britain's first Seal Master is standing in this Hall right now." The chuunin smiled as he cut the flow of chakra, allowing the barrier to collapse as he dropped lightly to the floor and receiving an enthusiastic round of applause from many of the students and staff. "The first session of the class will convene in the Entrance Hall before moving outside for a safety demonstration. Afterwards, we will move to the classroom, though which classroom will be determined by the number of interested students. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday!" Bowing to the student body, Iruka began gathering his materials before returning to the Head Table as the students filed out, chattering animatedly about what they'd just seen.

"I believe you may find yourself using the largest of the available rooms." the Headmaster commented with a knowing smile.

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The end of lunch that Sunday saw a large crowd gathering outside the Great Hall. Iruka noted students from all four houses were present, perhaps fifty in all, though the Ravenclaw contingent was by far the largest. Quite a few of the first-years had come, still somewhat starry-eyed after their first week of learning magic. He also saw the Weasley Twins, talking in their back-and-forth way with the four first-years to attend from Gryffindor (Granger, Longbottom, Potter, and Thomas). In an out-of-the-way corner, so as not to intimidate the students, the Headmaster was holding a quiet conversation with Professors Flitwick, Quirrell, and Babbage as Filch looked on with his customary scowl.

Once he felt that all who were coming had arrived, Iruka clapped loudly to get his students' attention. "Welcome, everyone. I'm glad to see such interest, and hope you'll continue to find the subject interesting. For today's safety demonstration, please follow me." He turned and led the assorted students out the front doors of the castle and to a broad area of open lawn, where stood a pair of small, rough waist-high tables about ten meters apart. Minerva had transfigured the two at Iruka's request, while he had colored a yellow line in the grass ten meters from both tables. Next to each table stood a mannequin (also transfigured by Minerva) wearing somewhat tired-looking Hogwarts student robes (old discards provided by Flippy) and holding wand-sized sticks which lightly touched the tabletops. "Everybody but me stays behind the yellow line until the demonstration is over, unless they want to be sent back to the castle and banned from my class." he called out, and watched as the students and staff arrayed themselves behind the line with first-years and Professor Flitwick in front and the Headmaster sticking up in the back like a garish flagpole.

"The first and most important rule in this class is as follows: You _will not_ attempt to energize _any_ seal without my approval. Sealing mishaps can be extremely dangerous, and I don't want any of you to get hurt. That brings us to why we're out here. You'll notice the two mannequins behind me? They are positioned as someone energizing a seal."

"I have in my possession two defective seals, each of which I have modified with a time-delay on the charging section for the sake of this demonstration." He held up two envelopes with only a charging node protruding from each. "No, you may not see these seals. I don't want anyone copying them and hurting themselves or someone else. What you're about to witness is a demonstration of a couple of the ways seals can go wrong."

Iruka walked over to the first mannequin and slid one envelope onto the table under its 'wand'. "This will be a fairly generic seal failure, one of the more common ways for bad seals to fail." He charged the seal and jogged at a brisk civilian pace back to his students. "You might want to cover your ears."

Two seconds later, there was a loud _BANG_ and a cloud of smoke, which cleared to reveal the dummy's wand reduced to a charred and splintered stump, and clear damage to the hand and arm holding it. He had set the explosive yield just high enough to be spectacular without being truly catastrophic; no need for people to know how big a boom seals could really produce, after all.

Stepping to the second table, Iruka placed the second seal in position, then pulled a crudely-transfigured wooden goblet from his robes and placed it on top of the center of the seal. "This is a bad version of a storage seal. Properly-drawn storage seals are immensely useful, but here you'll see what can go wrong if they're not properly drawn. Our dummy in this case is trying to test his storage seal with a goblet." He charged the seal and stepped clear, and a few seconds later, the tabletop erupted in smoke. This time, while the damage wasn't as violent, it was far more extensive: The entire wand arm of the dummy starting just above the elbow was simply _gone_.

"I am not trying to scare you off sealing," Iruka addressed his students, several of which looked to be on the verge of losing their breakfast, "but I _am_ trying to scare you. As with any discipline that has great potential to do good, fuuinjutsu also has the potential to do great harm. Treat your work with the appropriate level of care, diligence, and respect, and I have no doubt that you will find this a rewarding endeavor."

At this, he pulled a storage scroll from his robes, unfurling and activating it in one smooth motion. The large cloud of smoke provoked more than a couple shrieks of alarm from the students, but when the smoke cleared to reveal the Staff Table from the Great Hall, complete with seats and Iruka sitting calmly in his accustomed place, they burst into applause.

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Even the largest of the classrooms Iruka had available was full nearly to capacity once his class had settled in. A handful had left after the safety demonstration, but most still seemed eager. "Once again, welcome everyone to Sealing Arts, or 'fuuinjutsu' as my people call it. For those with very short memories, I am Adjunct Professor Umino Iruka; in my homeland we state our family names first, so I am properly addressed as Professor Umino."

"First off, a show of hands: Who here has used a calligraphy brush before?" About half a dozen students raised their hands, mostly those with Asiatic features, although Dean Thomas of Gryffindor also had his hand up. "Those with their hands up will likely find this lesson a little bit boring, but you'll have a head start on the rest of the class, and I hope you'll use your experience to help the others." He saw heads nodding, even if most of the class looked somewhat confused at this point. "Even if your seal is designed properly, it can still fail if you cannot _draw_ it properly. Calligraphy takes a lot of practice to get good at, and even more practice to get good and fast at, so that's where we'll be starting in the hopes that by the time you've learned enough sealing theory to begin drawing actual seals, your hands will be able to follow through for your minds."

Iruka spent the remainder of that weekend's lesson instructing the students in how to use the calligraphy brushes he had provided. Before dismissing the class, he pulled out a stack of parchments. "These parchments contain a list of many of the more basic characters used in seal-writing. Any of you who wish to practice between classes, come take one of these and you'll be able to sign out a brush kit, with the understanding that if you mistreat your brushes you will pay to have them replaced."

About a quarter of the students lined up to get practice guides, followed by the Professors, as the rest of the class dispersed. Last in line was the Headmaster, whose eyes twinkled with merriment as he signed out a brush set. "I do hope I prove trustworthy with your brushes, Professor." he said with mock-seriousness.

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That Tuesday, though there were a handful of new faces, the overall size of the class had dropped by about twenty percent. Clearly some of the students hadn't realized that learning to scribe seals would require actually learning _how_ to write them, and considered the calligraphy aspect too boring to bother with. A few others were probably scared off by the safety demonstration, but didn't want to show this in front of their peers by leaving immediately. Either way, the Gryffindor contingent was heavily depleted, with only a couple of students beyond the twins and the first-years, now about matching the small group from Slytherin in size. Clearly the Hufflepuffs weren't afraid of a bit of work, and the Ravenclaws' curiosity was largely undimmed. Iruka's class would continue to dwindle over the next several weeks, while picking up the occasional late-comer, finally mostly settling down at about thirty-five total pupils.

As the weeks wore on, Iruka soon settled into a routine. There hadn't been enough interest to merit a class on Japanese language, but a few students were interested enough that Iruka ended up holding tutoring sessions as scheduling permitted. Other than his class and tutoring sessions, much of the chuunin's time was spent poring over Hogwarts' Library for anything that might help in his and Pandora's research, including skimming the History section on occasion for mentions of other displaced travelers like himself or anything like chakra or shinobi. Several times a week, he would return to the Rook to update and consult with Pandora, chat with Xeno, and spend time with Luna and continue guiding her training. She had now reached the point of being able to mold her chakra consistently, and was currently working on the leaf-sticking exercise.

Several students had drawn the ninja teacher's attention for various reasons. Hermione Granger, who seemed to spend almost as much time in the library as he did, appeared to be having trouble connecting with her peers. Given her personality, which reminded him of Sakura at the same age; it was likely that her forceful, driven attitude and bookish nature were contributing significantly to this, as had been the case with the pink-haired kunoichi. While Sakura may have been mostly teased for her large forehead, that had largely been because it was an easy target, as much of the bullies' true animosity towards her had been from resentment of her academic successes. If things didn't improve for Hermione soon, he'd speak to her discreetly or ask Professor McGonagall to do so and advise her on ways to be less... abrasive.

There were two students in his Sealing class that he now strongly suspected had troubled home lives. While Harry Potter was the first he had noticed, due to the attention the reluctant child celebrity drew, he had also noticed the boy's housemate Neville Longbottom showing problematically low self-esteem. It was to his dismay that Minerva had sadly informed him that Wizarding Britain did not have a legal framework in place to aid children with bad guardians when he had asked about proper procedures for reporting suspected abuse. Muggle law-enforcement did act on child abuse, she noted, but when the child in question was away at a boarding school they couldn't talk about, it made explaining things to law enforcement exceedingly difficult, and most students from abusive Muggle households tended to simply take refuge at Hogwarts and the homes of their magical friends before moving entirely into the Wizarding side of the world at their first opportunity.

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Nobody that knew Umino Iruka would ever claim that he didn't do everything he could for his students' sake. If legal intervention was out, that only left a more direct approach, which was why he was now making full use of his shinobi stealth skills (and dressed accordingly, including a facemask and gloves) as he alighted on the roof of #4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Minerva had given him the address of Mr. Potter's guardians as soon as he stated his intention to investigate further whether something was wrong and if anything could be done about it, and told him what she recalled from her day observing the family a decade before. She had also muttered sulphurously about "the worst kind of Muggles" and a "stubborn old fool".

A quick glance down at the driveway showed Mr. Dursley's car to be absent; unsurprising, as it was a workday. This was actually the chuunin's fourth visit to the neighborhood, the previous three having been spent observing the comings and goings of the Dursley family both to begin assessing their behavior and personalities and to determine a good time for a closer inspection of their home.

Vernon Dursley was an obese man whose movements showed a bit of muscle beneath the fat, but not nearly at the level of an Akimichi. What little Iruka had seen of the man suggested a prideful and likely boastful nature based on the way he swaggered to and from his immaculately-polished and presumably expensive car, but any more than that would require more time observing the man's behavior. In contrast to her husband's girth, Petunia Dursley was rail-thin, with an unattractive face that seemed mostly set in one of two expressions - a saccharine smile or a haughty, disapproving scowl. She spent much of her time outside her house running errands, gossiping with other women in the neighborhood, and performing autumn upkeep tasks on the front flower beds, such as removing dying annuals and pruning certain perennials. This last task was performed without the smoothness of familiarity, suggesting that one or both of the boys now away at boarding school had previously handled the chore.

Like much of the street, the exterior of #4 practically screamed out its conformity and 'propriety'. The flower beds were a study in rigid uniformity, a place for everything and everything in its place. If anything, the Dursley house seemed _more_ 'normal' or 'regular' than those around it, as if the residents were making extra effort to fit in. The whole thing set off Iruka's shinobi sensibilities in a big way, as the more effort someone puts into maintaining an image, the more likely it is that the image is a mask for something far different.

If they followed their typical schedule, Vernon would be at work, Dudley still away at school (it was only late October), and Petunia out running errands for at least the next hour - plenty of time to get in, check things over, and get back out.

Stepping off the roof, Iruka casually and silently dropped the two storeys to the back garden, carefully peering in the windows at the back of the house and listening for any activity. Once he was satisfied that the house was empty, he made quick work of picking the lock on the back door and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. The inside of #4 was just as pristine and regimented as the outside, unnaturally so. Had he been familiar with Muggle films, he would have described it as disturbingly Stepford. The entirety of the ground floor looked like a staged imitation of a home, rather than somewhere an actual family lived, lacking any of the natural clutter generated by most people as they go about their lives.

There were no books on the ground floor, save for a couple of cookbooks set neatly at one end of the kitchen counter, though there were some newspapers and magazines on housekeeping and entertainment gossip in this living room. The walls were festooned with numerous family photos, with the only child they contained looking like a smaller (at least vertically) version of Vernon without the mustache. In fact, nothing Iruka could see suggested that Harry Potter had ever even been in this house. Tabling a more thorough search for after he'd done a more general look-through, he headed upstairs.

The first floor of #4 contained a bathroom (nothing of note present or lacking) and four bedrooms. It was in the bedrooms that the chuunin found the first signs of genuine human habitation: Judging by the adult belongings and asymmetrically-compressed king-size bed, the largest bedroom belonged to the Dursley parents. Across the hall from the master bedroom was what appeared to be a guest bedroom, judging by how it lacked any personal effects. At the far end of the hall was a room that appeared to contain much of the mess absent from the ground floor, as it was utterly packed with a variety of toys and games, with both playthings and very large children's clothing scattered everywhere.

It was between the master bedroom and what appeared to be Dudley's bedroom that Iruka found his first signs of a fourth inhabitant. The smallest bedroom was as cluttered as Dudley's, again with toys, but here the toys were different: Most were broken or damaged, and of those that weren't, many had the bright primary colors and simple shapes of toys for children much younger than eleven. He'd have dismissed this room as simply storage for all of the boy's broken and abandoned toys were it not for the worn-out bed, dresser, and desk in the room. The bed, despite being an obvious available flat surface, was clear of the toys piled elsewhere in the room, suggesting it had been in recent use. Given the lumpy mattress and poor-quality linens, it was not likely to be used for invited guests (especially when compared to the conspicuous consumption on display elsewhere in the house). It all added up to indicate that someone had been sleeping in this room relatively soon before Dudley and Harry went off to their respective schools. On the other hand, nothing about the room showed the stamp of an inhabitant's personality, as every person consciously and unconsciously shapes their environment to suit them over time. He was missing something.

A more thorough search of the bedrooms told him little that he didn't already know, though he did find that a floorboard under the bed in the smallest bedroom had been recently pried up and replaced, suggesting a hiding place even if the void beneath was currently empty. Other than a few trashy romance novels in the master bedroom, most of the books in #4 were stowed in the smallest bedroom, and were clearly aimed at children of various ages. Many of the books were damaged to some degree, and he noted that all were about mundane topics such as aeroplanes and automobiles, rather than more fantastic subjects like magic and monsters.

Thankful that Mrs. Dursley kept her curtains shut (presumably to keep out nosey neighbors like herself), Iruka returned to the ground floor to continue his more thorough search. Almost immediately, he found a piece he'd been missing from the puzzle.

The cupboard under the stairs.

Iruka scowled fiercely as he took in the small, worn cot on the floor of the cupboard, and the thin, threadbare blanket covering it. It didn't take a Nara to figure out that _this_ was where Harry had likely spent much of the last decade. A house with four bedrooms and four occupants, and the Dursleys put their nephew in a Sage-blasted _storage closet_. Putting the pieces together, the veteran teacher's mind produced a picture of long-term systematic mental abuse, though thankfully the lack of bloodstains indicated that physical abuse was less likely. Still, Harry Potter was going to need some strong positive human connections to heal from what happened here. Not for the first time, Iruka wished that Naruto was here, with his seemingly limitless ability to easily connect to people and bring out their best natures. As things stood, it would fall to him to handle things and help his student as best he could. Like a generation before, it was again time for Iruka to reach out to a lonely, mistreated orphan.

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 **A/N: And Iruka makes his first real use of his ninja skills in this fic. Sharp-eyed readers may be able to guess why he'll be needing them again next chapter.**

 **Another question to my readers: Are there any particular material requirements for fuuinjutsu? I can't find any broad canonical restrictions (though at least some seals need to be scribed in blood), so this is more a case of "what makes sense to people". Basically, I need to figure out whether Iruka's students will be able to produce active seals outside of class.**

 **In this fic, Harry's abuse is as it's portrayed in the books - mental/emotional/verbal abuse, coupled with forced confinement, starvation, and some physical violence (other than Dudley and his gang, Vernon might occasionally swat at Harry or handle him roughly when dragging him around or throwing him into his cupboard). The only full-on beatings are delivered by Dudley and his 'friends'.**

 **I imagine that Konoha takes a very dim view of child abuse, and that the Academy teachers know the signs to look for. Ninja-level observational skills obviously help in that regard. On the flip side, the cases in which abuse is most likely to be discovered and dealt with are Academy students from civilian families, while clan children are least likely. The clans have more leeway in how they treat their children, since they all have their own secret training methods and practices. As I pointed out to a reviewer of Chapter 1-2, most people would not consider implanting your child with a colony of parasitic insects to be good parenting. That leeway, plus the fact that the abuser is more likely to have political clout within the village, means that identifying and dealing with abuse of a clan child would be fairly difficult. I would actually argue that, depending on how representative those scenes we saw of her home life were, Hinata may have been a victim of abuse, in her case in the form of mental abuse coupled with unnecessarily rough training. There are certainly plenty of fics whose authors seem to agree on that, though many more simply paint Hiashi as strict and cold.**

 **To Guesthouse (a guest reviewer), since I can't respond directly by PM: Thanks for your support, and here's hoping that the story will continue to please!**

 **To another guest reviewer, asking where Iruka would be sorted: Hufflepuff, for loyalty more than anything else, with Gryffindor as a secondary pick.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Adorable Violence" by CloudZen - A sweet and fluffy Harry/Hermione story in which Hermione happens to be incredibly (and hilariously) violent towards those who threaten or harm her books or her Harry.**

 **Posted 8 October 2017**

 **Edited 19 November 2017 (A/N only): Added posting date**


	14. 1-4: Trick or Treat

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Underlined text comes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone**

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Just as the Opening Feast had seen the Great Hall glimmering with welcome, the Halloween Feast turned it into a spectacle. Hundreds of bats swarmed through the air, and the floating candles were now ensconced inside hollowed-out pumpkins with faces carved in them, dimming the Hall significantly and casting angular, flickering shadows everywhere. Overall, the decorations gave the hall a feeling of light-hearted spookiness. Dinner was half over, and he was considering how to approach Mr. Potter after Seals tonight, when the previously-absent Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, disheveled and wide-eyed with fear. "TROLL! Troll in the dungeons!" he cried out between gasps, before adding in a tone of quiet shock, "thought you ought to know..." and collapsing to the floor in what seemed to Iruka to be a less-than-genuine faint.

The student body erupted into noise and growing panic, until several loud purple firecrackers from the Headmaster's wand caught their attention and quieted them. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

" **STOP!** " Iruka bellowed, using chakra to boost his voice as he subconsciously dropped into 'battlefield commander' mode and began barking orders rapid-fire. "All students gather by the Gryffindor table, youngest towards the corner furthest from the doors. Prefects, take a headcount and notify staff _immediately_ if anyone is unaccounted-for. Headmaster, I recommend detailing a group of staff to defend the students here and another group to find and deal with this troll." In a much quieter voice, he continued, "I recommend _against_ sending the students through the halls unprotected, especially when at least some would be headed into the same portion of the castle we were just told contains the threat."

Dumbledore seemed startled that someone would countermand his orders, but at Iruka's quiet rebuke he gave a grim nod and began selecting staff to accompany him in seeking out the troll. At the same time, one of the students called out, "Professors! One of our first-years is missing!" Iruka turned to see the shout came from Percy Weasley.

The next shout came from Harry Potter. "It's Hermione! She's in the girl's loo! _She doesn't know about the troll!_ " A fellow Gryffindor first-year, Lavender Brown, called out which restroom the girl was last seen in.

Iruka addressed Professor Dumbledore. "I'll get her." He casually vaulted the Head Table and dashed for the hall doors, closing them with a wave of his wand as soon as he was through, before leaping up the stairs in a single bound and going from civilian speed to his full speed.

In under a minute, he was standing outside the restroom in question, and promptly disregarded propriety as he entered. "Ms. Granger?" His query elicited a slight squeak of surprise from one of the stalls. "I'm sorry to barge in, but there's an emergency right now and we need to get you back to the Great Hall for safety."

"Professor?" came the confused response.

Rhythmic vibrations in the floor spoke of heavy footfalls nearby. "Ms. Granger, we need to go _right now_." he said quietly but insistently. The stall door opened slightly and the girl's face peeked out hesitantly. Unfortunately, this action was simultaneously mirrored by the washroom door opening and a far less friendly face peering through.

The first thing that hit him was the smell, the overpowering odor of a creature with absolutely no personal hygiene. Next was its appearance: The troll was about four meters tall, with gray, stone-like skin, very little of which was covered by its ragged loincloth and vest. Its legs were short and thick, bearing the weight of its large round torso capped with a disproportionately small head. One of its long, powerful arms held a large wooden club, which it had been dragging behind it and which now would have been the third thing to hit Iruka had he not sidestepped.

A booming crash reverberated around the room as chips of stone flew and the floor shook with the force of the blow. Ms. Granger screamed in terror, and seemed on the verge of fainting, while the troll simply looked at the point of impact as if confused as to why there hadn't been the expected squishing event.

Iruka had no intention of being there when it figured things out and took another swing, especially with one of his students in danger. He dashed over to Hermione and picked her up in his arms before moving deeper into the room, trying to draw the troll away from the door it was presently blocking. Their attacker obliged, lumbering into the room and swinging its club wildly about, smashing stalls and sinks seemingly just for the sake of destruction. Once it was well clear of the door, he timed his move for the moment it committed to another heavy forehand swing.

As he and his terrified passenger maintained their tight grips on each other, he leapt up and to the left, towards the wall over the shoulder of the troll's club-wielding arm, taking advantage of the opening presented by the momentum of the swinging club. A series of chakra-charged steps bounced him off the wall and took him to the ceiling, to the opposite wall, then back to the floor at the door and dashing back down the corridors toward the Great Hall. He would have preferred to keep his abilities a secret, but _never_ at the cost of the safety of one of his students.

Slowing just before they reached the doors of the Hall, he turned to his shocked passenger. "This isn't a demand or an order, but I would appreciate it if you didn't share with anyone how I moved just now. It's a bit of a secret, since I'm not particularly interested in ending up as somebody's lab specimen." The girl nodded hesitantly, though he could see her shock starting to recede as her mind began to analyze the evening's events. Nodding in acceptance, Iruka knocked on the doors of the Great Hall, called "Professor Umino, coming in!" and was pleased to see a number of staff and upper-year students with their wands lowered but still in hand facing the doors.

"Poppy, would you look after Ms. Granger? She's just had a bad fright." he addressed the school Healer, before calling out, "Flippy!" The house-elf arrived with a pop. "Tell the Headmaster that the troll was last seen in the girls' toilet, first floor, west corridor." Flippy nodded and popped away. Towards Professor Sprout, he asked, "Any other students missing?" A shake of her head allowed him to relax. Finally, he turned back to the student body with a grin that mixed wry and sheepish. "I'm afraid that due to unforeseen circumstances, Sealing class will be canceled this evening."

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It was nearly midnight by the time Albus had finally finished handling the fallout from the night's excitement. Amelia Bones had been less than pleased when he had notified her of the intrusion, but grudgingly accepted his assurance that the wards had been adjusted to prevent a reoccurrence. There had been no need to inform her that the gap in the wards had been opened deliberately to admit Quirinus's contribution to the Stone's protection; the fewer people that knew the Stone was at Hogwarts, the better.

He, along with Minerva and Filius, had followed the information provided by Professor Umino via elf and found the troll on the first floor, shuffling its way in the direction of the Great Hall. The misguided creature had found itself quite overmatched and was quickly subdued before Albus had enchanted its club as a one-way portkey to a suitable preserve and sent it back to its natural habitat. It had taken all three staff members to put the girls' toilet mostly back to rights, though Argus would likely still have to spend much of the next day completing the repairs and cleanup, particularly purging the last of the troll's rather pungent odor from the area.

While the students had all come through the event unscathed, Severus had been injured by Hagrid's defense in his zeal to confirm that the corridor was still secure, as the troll was a rather obvious distraction ploy. The proud young man refused to see Poppy, unfortunately, but rather insisted upon treating the bite wound himself.

Now, as Albus carried out his evening ablutions, he contemplated the reports he'd received through the castle's portraits. Apparently Professor Umino had cleared the entirety of the Entrance Hall stairs in a single leap, then proceeded to dash through the corridors at speeds even a top-of-the-line racing broom would have been hard-pressed to match. Most of the portraits had seen him as little more than a blur of motion, with only the portrait of Elizabeth Woodbridge, who had been a professional Seeker in her youth, being able to confirm that the blur had in fact been the Adjunct Professor. Shocked at the reports, the Headmaster himself had returned to the corridor in question and cast a spell normally used by hunters and law-enforcement, which outlined and illuminated recent footprints.

The troll's large, shuffling footprints were easily distinguished and dismissed, but the floors were otherwise such a riot of traffic that he was unable to find anything of use, until he reached a corner. Here, he found a trail of footprints briefly adorning the outer wall of the corner, suggesting Professor Umino had run up onto the wall rather than slow down to take the turn. These unmarred prints were all Albus needed to isolate the Sealing Professor's tracks, which didn't show any odd stride lengths, but did frequently run up onto the walls at turns. He had followed the tracks into the girls' toilet, and was able to deduce that Professor Umino had been surprised by the troll's entrance whilst trying to coax Ms. Granger out, had retreated into the room, and then (judging by the prints on the ceiling) used another bit of impossible acrobatics to extract both himself and his student from the room safely. His return trail then led directly back to the Great Hall.

Being gainsaid in front of the entire population of the castle was not something Albus had enjoyed, but it had been the correct decision. He shuddered to think of what could have happened had a disordered and unguarded group of children come upon the troll. One of his tasks tonight had been to update the centuries-old Hogwarts policy of securing students in their Houses during an emergency, amending it to cover cases where the students are already congregated in a defensible location or where the threat is believed to be in the vicinity of one or more House Common Rooms.

The Adjunct Professor's tone had been one of command; not the tone of a teacher commanding students, but the tone Albus had heard and used among the forces opposing Gellert almost a half-century before. Combined with Alastor's insights, there could now be no question that Umino Iruka was a soldier, and quite probably one with no small amount of experience on the field of battle. While this was still concerning, as were his clear attempts to conceal his background and abilities, many of Albus's fears were allayed at least somewhat by the Professor's actions.

First, he had shown great presence of mind in seeing the flaw in Albus's commands, and the courage to do what was right in countermanding them. Further, he had immediately set the students to arranging a defense, with the most vulnerable among them in the most guarded position, and called for a headcount to ensure that all students were safe and accounted for. He showed good judgment in deferring to Albus's knowledge of the staff and their abilities when determining who would guard the Great Hall and who would seek the troll. Keeping the students and much of the staff together had also negated any chance for Quirinus to slip away and probe the Stone's defenses, though this was undoubtedly an accidental benefit. When informed that Ms. Granger was absent, Professor Umino had volunteered to retrieve her without hesitation, something which at the time had seemed somewhat suspicious and had contributed to Severus's haste in securing the third-floor corridor, as it would leave him alone and unsupervised during the obvious diversion. However, it was now clear that he had simply judged correctly that his superior mobility would allow him to reach his wayward student more quickly than any other member of staff could manage, and it was likely that his quick action and sound judgment had saved the young girl's life. His tracks showed that he had raced directly to his destination, and returned along the same path. That he showed his abilities in front of Ms. Granger rather than place her at greater risk by hiding them again demonstrated that his foremost priority was his student's safety, even if it meant revealing a secret he had kept hidden. Albus could not fully trust Professor Umino quite yet, as the entire episode could have been coordinated with Quirinus to cement the Seals teacher's cover, but the likelihood of the mysterious man having nefarious intentions was dwindling steadily.

Using the castle's enchantments and the privileges granted to its Headmaster, Albus had forbidden the portraits from informing anyone but himself about Professor Umino's extraordinary feats until further notice. He would continue to watch the visiting scholar, but would allow the man his secrets, for now.

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Hermione Granger was confused. No, she was downright _baffled_! She was lying awake in a bed in the Hospital Wing and _trying_ to process everything that had happened the previous day. The problem was, there was just so _much_ of it!

First, she'd successfully learned the basic Hover Charm in class, earning points and more importantly praise from Professor Flitwick. Unfortunately, she'd been partnered with _Weasley_. That _boy_ had _ignored_ much of the Professor's instructions, taken _no notes_ , and then proceeded to flail around (nearly hitting her several times) while utterly _mangling_ the incantation. Honestly, it wasn't like it was that hard if you actually _listened_ to the teacher! Hermione had _tried_ to help him, but rather than being grateful or at least decent, he'd actually _complained_ about getting extra help! Then, when he demanded she prove that she knew what she was doing, he simply got _angry_ when she did as he wanted, instead of continuing to work on it himself! That's not even taking into account what he said _after_ class...

School had always been a mixed experience for the twelve-year-old. On the one hand, there was always something new to learn, some new knowledge to acquire, and her teachers were always full of praise for her intelligence and hard work. On the other hand, she had never really had friends; oh, other children had _pretended_ to be her friends on occasion, but it was always just so that they could get her to help them with their schoolwork. On the gripping hand (she'd read that in a book over the summer), it had always felt like there was a wall between her and everyone else.

When Professor McGonagall came to tell her family about magic, Hermione had come to the obvious conclusion: It was her _magic_ that had made her so different from the other children, left her alone and isolated. Now that she was going to a _magic_ school, _surely_ she'd be able to fit in and find friends there!

Right?

Wrong, unfortunately. The past two months had hammered home to her the point that it was not her magic that set her apart, nor her bushy hair nor her buck teeth - it was her intelligence and her drive to be the best academically. She just couldn't understand _why_ nobody else craved knowledge like she did, why they seemed to want to just goof off and coast through school (except for _Weasley's_ older brother the prefect, he was much more sensible), why they didn't see how _wondrous_ all this magic was and want to master as much of it as possible. What did they expect to do after they graduated, play _gobstones_ for a living?

Before Hogwarts, although Hermione might have been lonely at school, she at least came home to her parents each day, at least had their love and support. Here, two months of near-total social isolation was taking its toll, and she had already been considering not returning from Christmas hols, when _Weasley's_ comments pushed her past the tipping point. She'd spent the rest of the day intermittently crying her eyes out in the girls' toilet, mentally composing and revising the letter she was going to send her parents to ask them to withdraw her from Hogwarts as soon as possible.

After that was when things started to get _very_ confusing. Professor Umino had barged into the girls' loo and told her there was an emergency and started urging her to come with him to the Great Hall immediately. It all seemed very strange, but when she peeked her head out to look and try to figure out what was going on, something that could only be a _mountain troll_ stepped in through the door! As she froze in screaming mortal terror, the troll swung its club, and she was _certain_ she was about to see the nice professor killed.

Instead, he had dodged with almost casual ease, then suddenly he was carrying her, retreating further into the room, and with the troll between them and the way out, she was sure they were trapped. Then he suddenly _jumped_ , and she could swear he ran across the _ceiling_ for a moment even though that was _impossible_ , even _with_ magic, and they were out the door and moving down the corridor at utterly _absurd_ speeds, and if they'd gone on much further than they had she suspected she may have sicked up all over him. Friendly, unassuming, middle-aged Professor Umino, the teacher that showed them how to create magic by _writing_ , the man that smiled and gave her an acknowledging nod when they so often passed in the library, had suddenly moved like some sort of _superhero_.

Just as she was trying to recall whether she'd ever read of magic allowing someone to move like that, he'd asked her not to tell anyone about it, that he was worried that someone might try to study him like some kind of _lab rat_. Apparently it _wasn't_ a typical thing for magic to do. Maybe it was another kind of magic from his homeland! She'd heard about how a magical accident had transported him across the world, from a country that used magic differently, and he was still working on finding his way home.

He'd carried her into the Great Hall, and handed her off to Madam Pomfrey, who had fussed over her and cast all _kinds_ of diagnostic spells (which Hermione _would_ make sure to learn at some point) before calling some tiny creature (she'd ask about it later) to retrieve a Calming Draught from the Hospital Wing.

Just as the little being disappeared with a pop (and how could it _do_ that? Hogwarts: A History _clearly_ stated that you couldn't Apparate inside Hogwarts), Harry Potter had come up to her, along with _Weasley_. After a couple of nudges from Harry's elbow, _Weasley_ had sheepishly apologized to her. He had said that he was sorry she'd been in danger because of what he'd said, and that he hoped she was all right now. What he had _not_ said was that he was sorry for his words, something that Harry also seemed to pick up on, if the brief deepening of his frown was any indication. Still, it was only polite to accept the apology, after which he nodded stiffly and hurried off, with Harry lingering a moment longer, his eyes clearly asking 'Are you OK?'. She nodded to him as well, getting a nod in return before he left to find his _friend_.

It was at about that point that Madam Pomfrey held up a goblet full of what Hermione presumed to be the Calming Draught. She'd obediently drunk the lavender-colored concoction, after which she remembered very little before waking up here in the Hospital Wing. Since then, while waiting for the matron to release her, she'd been running over and over through the previous day's events, and now found herself coming to conclusions:

First, while _Weasley_ was still a lazy, rude, ignorant _boor_ , Harry Potter was apparently a decent human being, and she once again wondered if she might be able to one day befriend the shy boy from the train. Second, she was not leaving Hogwarts yet, not until she was _certain_ that she'd never connect with anyone here. Finally, she was going to talk with Professor Umino and find out as much as she could about her savior...

 **A/N: I solemnly swear that I did _not_ plan things out so far in advance that the Halloween chapter would fall this close to the day itself! My only Halloween-related fanfic plans involve a Sandman one-shot I will be posting on the 31st.  
**

 **Anyway, this is certainly a more noticeable deviation, eh? I considered having Iruka fight the troll, but his objective was to keep Hermione safe, and fighting a troll in a confined space with her sitting there helpless would be far more dangerous to her than simply getting her out of and away from there. Hopefully my description was good enough to paint the picture I had in my head of how he handled everything.**

 **We also now see Dumbledore taking a closer look at Iruka, after being somewhat humbled by having his orders countermanded in front of everybody. He's starting to recognize that Iruka is capable, intelligent, and on the right side. It also helps that, unlike pretty much everyone else he deals with, he's only ever met Iruka as an adult: I'm borrowing a bit from "Reunion" by Rorschach's Blot and having Dumbledore still see most of the people around him as the children they were as his students. It's part of why he has trouble listening to other people and tends to view himself as the wisest person around. By showing up already in early middle-age, Iruka has bypassed that problem, so Dumbledore sees him as an adult; it also helps that Iruka has skills and knowledge Dumbledore knows that he himself doesn't. He's certainly not going to go "Oh, Iruka, you're clearly wiser than I am, tell me exactly what we should do next!", but a foundation has been laid for him to at least consider Iruka's input on occasion.**

 **The last scene was a lot of fun to write. Hermione's 'voice' is, for me, a very clear and easy one to write. Yes, she's using** _ **emphasis**_ **a lot, but she's also a barely-twelve-year-old girl that's been scared witless, surprised and confused, and is currently exhausted - she has every right to be a tad frazzled after all that, I'd say.**

 **I'd like to state here that I am** _ **not**_ **bashing Ron. At this point in the series, he's an eleven-year-old boy with very little emotional maturity and several noticeable issues. He hasn't even had an encounter with a troll to drive home the consequences of his words the way he did in canon.**

 **To a guest reviewer on Chapter 1-3: Iruka will be taking care of the people he encounters that really need that extra support, and this chapter has hopefully shown a bit more about who some of those will be.**

 **To Guesthouse (another guest reviewer): Thanks for your support and your input!**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Like Me" by KonohasBlackReaper - Orochimaru shares some observations about Naruto that leave Sakura seriously worried.**

 **Posted 22 October, 2017**


	15. 1-5: Students

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Bright and early on the morning of the first of November, a lone figure stepped into the Hogwarts Owlery. He had already sent one missive out and was approaching a second school owl when a very distinctive white owl with black markings dove in and pushed the school owl from its perch.

"A bit possessive, aren't we?" Iruka asked the owl with a wry smile, once he'd recognized her as belonging to a certain famous first-year. "All right, then, could you take this for me?"

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It wasn't surprising to Harry when Hedwig arrived as part of the morning post rush; she occasionally stopped by for a few rashers of bacon and some scratches, though at times he got the impression that she was checking up on him. What _was_ surprising was the small note she was carrying in her beak. He stared at it for a moment before giving his owl a questioning glance, wondering how she came to be carrying something to him that wasn't a response to a letter he'd sent, and received a reassuring bob of her head in response. Shrugging, he read the brief missive.

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _Please come to my office during your afternoon break today. I would like to discuss possible arrangements that may make your summer holidays significantly more tolerable._

 _-Adjunct Professor Umino_

Harry froze at the mention of his summer holidays. The phrasing suggested that Professor Umino knew something about his life on Privet Drive, something he'd not shared with anyone at Hogwarts. Perhaps Hagrid had said something about the events of his birthday? The large man wasn't exactly the most closed-lipped of people...

Regardless of _how_ the visiting Professor had learned about the Dursleys, the fact remained that he had. A caustic mix of anxiety and shame coiled in Harry's gut at the thought of his 'home' life becoming common knowledge. He'd have to attend this meeting, if for no other reason than to make sure that Professor Umino wasn't planning on telling anybody else; he'd had too much experience with disappointment in the past to dare hope that someone actually could or would help him in regards to his relatives' treatment.

Ron glanced up from his nearly Dudley-portioned breakfast. "Wha'sh 'e no'e abou', 'Arry?" he asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"It's from Professor Umino; he wants to see me during the free period this afternoon." There was no way Harry was going to share _why_. He did _not_ want Ron's pity.

Mercifully for those around him, Ron swallowed before continuing. "Tough luck, mate. Still dunno why you're taking an _extra_ class."

"Magic is all new to me, Ron. I just want to see as much of it as I can, plus some of the things Professor Umino showed us could come in handy over the summers." Things like using a storage seal to store a supply of decent food or hide his school things, or putting one of those barrier things across his door to keep Dudley out.

"Better you than me, mate. Better you than me."

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It was barely five minutes into the First Year Gryffindors' afternoon free period when Iruka heard the hesitant knock on his office door. "Come in!" he called, marking his page and putting aside the text he'd been reading. As he expected, the door opened to reveal a clearly anxious Harry Potter. "Please, come in Mr. Potter; have a seat." The boy sat in one of the chairs before Iruka's desk, his posture radiating tension. "Would you like some tea?"

At his guest's hesitant nod, Iruka rose and retrieved his tea set, its teapot already filled and kept under a warming charm to be ready in anticipation of this meeting. He had prepared a Japanese green tea that he found quite relaxing, hoping that it would have a similar effect on Harry; he'd chosen green tea deliberately for the British boy's likely unfamiliarity with it, in the hope that it might provide a distraction from the worries that were doubtless plaguing his mind right now.

Setting the tea set on his desk, Iruka sat in the other guest chair; he didn't want to be looming over the already-frightened child from behind a desk. Once both of them had steaming cups of tea in their hands, Iruka waited for Harry's expression of surprise after his first sip to speak. "Over the past two months, I've noticed a number of subtle signs hinting that your life away from Hogwarts may be less than ideal. You're not the first student I've taught to be in such a situation, and all of you tend to hide the signs as best you can, but between training and experience I'd like to think I'm fairly good at catching them in spite of that." He offered a slight smile here, though he doubted Harry saw as he was now staring determinedly into his teacup. "In Konoha, my home village, when I suspected a case like yours, I was legally required to report it to the authorities, so that it could be properly investigated and the child protected if necessary." This elicited a look of shock and fear, with hints of betrayal. "Apparently the laws of Wizarding Britain don't actually cover child abuse for some absurd reason," the look changed to one of denial at the word 'abuse', not unexpectedly, "and pursuing a case on the non-magical side would be complicated by both the witness and the child being unable to explain where they spend much of the year." Harry's emotions were clearly fluctuating rapidly at this point, bouncing around between fear, anger, denial, shame, and a bit of wry amusement with the last comment, and those were just what Iruka was able to read. More than likely his mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions shifting too quickly to really process. Iruka paused to sip his tea, prompting his guest to follow suit, before leaning forward to place himself at eye level with the child.

"Since I couldn't prompt an official investigation, I had to look into things myself. I went to Privet Drive; I watched the Dursleys; I examined the property at #4; I snuck in while they were out to look around;" here he made sure that Harry had swallowed and wasn't in the midst of another sip, "I found the cupboard."

Harry froze at the last statement. This was the key moment; there was no real way to predict how he'd react next, and many of those possible reactions would crack or shatter any potential for trust and rapport between them, making it difficult or impossible for Iruka to help Harry. All he could do was wait, sip his tea, and hope that when the boy finished processing the information that he would remain Iruka's student, would allow the chuunin to try to help him.

After a couple of minutes of tense, pregnant silence, Harry seemed to rouse from his reverie, and in a small voice asked, "What are you going to do?"

Iruka smothered his sigh of relief, knowing it could easily be misinterpreted at the moment, and settled for a kind smile instead. "Whatever I can do to help you, if you'll let me. For starters, I'll be someone you can talk to, about anything, everything, or nothing at all if you want. I already know the biggest thing you keep secret, and I promise that I'll never tell _anyone_ unless you give me permission or I feel it's absolutely necessary for your safety, like if your uncle started hurting you and I needed to convince the authorities to get you out of there. You can tell me anything you want to, and I won't judge you or pity you or anything like that. I know from experience that talking about your problems helps."

"Would it help if I told you one of _my_ secrets?" Iruka ventured. At Harry's somewhat confused and hesitant nod, he continued, "I'm not just from another country. As far as I've been able to figure out, I'm actually from a whole other _world_."

Harry blinked in confusion and surprise. "Like... Mars?"

The chuckling chuunin shook his head. "No, I'm not from outer space, at least not that I can tell. Unless I've turned green?" He made a show of looking over his hands as if inspecting their color, as a choked laugh escaped his guest. "More like an alternate reality, like the worlds in stories that are clearly not Earth, but aren't just out in space either. That's why it's so hard for me to find my way home - it's not just getting to the right place on a map, it's getting onto the right map in the first place."

After another pause for tea, Iruka moved on. "Anyway, now that you know one of my biggest secrets, let's get back to what I can do to help you. If you'd like, I can make some discreet inquiries into whether there might be someone else that could take custody of you, and let you move out, but there's no way of knowing if or when that could pan out. If we don't go that route, or if we do and it hasn't borne any fruit by summer, I'd like to visit you regularly, both to keep in touch and to make sure your relatives know to behave like civilized people. Between now and then, and possibly continuing forward, I can also start teaching you how to protect yourself without magic, as well as some things from my world that I _won't_ be teaching to most of my other students. Does that all sound good to you?" Harry's nod this time was more than a little awestruck, as if he was shocked that an adult would go so far out of their way to help him. Then again, given what Iruka had seen at Privet Drive, he might be the first adult to do so in ten years.

"In that case, we might as well get started, right? The first thing I'd like to teach you may sound a bit boring, but I think it will help you in a lot of ways. Back when I was your age, I was... a hothead. I didn't think before I acted, and my sensei, my teacher, was worried that I'd get myself or someone else hurt, so he taught me a meditation technique that helps me organize my thoughts and review my memories. Going over my memories from an outside perspective lets me see things I've done right and wrong, and just generally helps me understand them better. It helped me learn to curb my impulsiveness, and think about things more clearly; since I came to Britain, it's also helped me learn a kind of magic called Occlumency, that also helps you control your emotions while protecting your mind from outside interference. We'll get to that later, when you're ready, but for now let's start with the meditation. First, we'll make sure we're sitting comfortably..."

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When Harry left, he was far more relaxed and (if Iruka was right) just a little bit lighter than when he arrived. After the first-year had begun to tire of meditation practice, the two had conversed over fresh cups of tea, with Iruka sharing stories (edited, for now) about his own childhood, Konoha and some of his previous students (with Naruto and his friends featuring quite prominently), and Harry talking about what Hogwarts was like from his perspective. His love of flying made a great deal of sense - the open space and freedom were likely a pleasant contrast to confinement in that bijuu-crushed cupboard. The poor teaching in some of the subjects was concerning to Iruka on both a personal and professional level, and he resolved to speak with his colleagues as appropriate to see if anything could be done.

Harry had taken quite well the revelation that Iruka had already been teaching one young Briton the same things he intended to begin Harry on, though when the possibility of additional students was brought up the chuunin had to quickly reassure him that this would in no way lessen his training. In fact, he accepted it quite quickly when Iruka implied that while he obviously wouldn't go into specifics, any further students would be chosen for as good a reason as Harry himself had been. It seemed that he understood the message underneath the underneath - any such students would be chosen because they too needed Iruka's help.

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Thursday afternoon found Iruka stepping from the Floo into Longbottom Hall. A house-elf promptly vanished the soot from his robes, then bowed. "Mistress Longbottom bes in the sitting room. If sir wills be following Tilly?" Nodding, Iruka followed the small servant. As he entered the sitting room, his hostess rose to greet him.

Augusta Longbottom was a tall, lean older woman with angular features and a formidable presence. She gave him a stiff nod of greeting, then gestured to the armchair across from her own. Once the two were seated and Tilly had popped away to prepare tea, she spoke. "Your letter indicated that my Neville faces an obstacle in his development as a wizard, which may be impairing his performance at Hogwarts and which you believe we may be able to ameliorate. I have invited you into my home based on your rather cryptic message, and would now very much like you to make yourself clear."

"Madam Longbottom," Iruka began, "you are of course aware of the tremendous influence a wizard's mind has upon their magic? Not only intent, but also confidence, and belief? A wizard that is confident, who _believes_ that he will succeed, is likely to cast his spell more successfully and to better effect than one who lacks confidence or who expects to fail. From my observations of young Neville, as well as consultation with my fellow staff, he suffers from a severe lack of self-confidence, and seems convinced that his magic is weak and useless. I believe that this is preventing him from reaching his full potential, but that between the two of us we can begin to rebuild his confidence and help him grow."

His hostess sighed. "Frank was always such a strong, confident boy, full of life and magic. I simply cannot understand how his son could be so different, so timid..." 'so weak' was left loudly unsaid.

"If I may be blunt?" Iruka queried. At Madam Longbottom's grim nod, he continued, "Frequent unflattering comparisons to his father are a likely contributing factor. Would I also be correct in guessing that you or other members of his family have often suggested that he may be a squib?" She nodded now, a slight expression of shock on her face. "I've seen similar situations in the past, where students had guardians that were particularly stern and demanding and were unhappy with the shy, gentle child. It's a problem at both ends, as you've been approaching the problem the only way you know how, but the more Neville is pushed the more he retreats. You keep hoping that he'll stand up for himself, but in my experience that would only come if you pushed him far enough to destroy any relationship the two of you have as family."

"In my experience, children like Neville simply don't like conflict and confrontation, so they try to avoid them however they can. That's not to say that they're unable to stand up when they have to, but they tend to save it for when it _really_ matters. They can be as strong as anyone else, but it's generally a quieter strength, reserved for when they need it rather than shown off."

Iruka paused a few moments, considering how much to share. "There's one former student of mine that's a particularly good example of this. Hinata was a lot like Neville at the same age; very quiet, very timid, very gentle. When she was sixteen, our village was attacked by someone that makes even the last Dark Lord look weak by comparison. He flattened over half of our village with a single attack, before being confronted by our strongest champion, who happened to be the boy Hinata loved. When our champion was defeated, the attacker prepared to carry him away to be sacrificed, but Hinata intervened. She knew she stood no chance, but still she stood between the attacker and the boy she loved and fought with a ferocity and strength none of us had ever seen from her before. Even though she lost, she bought our champion the opportunity he needed to win, and it was their son whose accident sent me to Britain."

"What I'm getting at is that Neville has more potential than most people realize, but it will take the right circumstances for him to truly shine."

Madam Longbottom looked thoughtful. "And what, precisely, are you proposing?"

"At your end, it would largely consist of a change in how you and others treat Neville. Praise his successes and express confidence that he will continue to succeed. If you compare him to his parents, make sure you're drawing parallels that are clearly positive, but in general remember that he is his own person, and will be different from both his parents in various ways. Later, once I've gotten Neville really talking, I may have some more detailed recommendations."

"My side of things is a bit more extensive. For starters, I may be able to provide something of a more immediate male role model. I wouldn't want to replace his father, and I'd make it clear to him early on that I have no intention of doing so. I'd also act as a counselor and possibly a confidant. Beyond that, there are things I can teach Neville that aren't part of the Sealing Arts, but which I suspect may help him in a number of different ways. There's physical training, which improves overall health and could improve his self-image as he matures; meditation with a view towards progressing to basic Occlumency, to boost his focus and memory while giving him greater control over his fears; special mental exercises that I believe will aid him in controlling his magic; non-magical self-defense techniques, to build confidence and give him a way to protect himself even in cases where he can't use his wand. In addition, I'd be teaching him a few techniques from my homeland, since being able to do something almost no other witch or wizard in Britain can do could be a huge boon to his confidence, even ignoring the utility of the techniques themselves. As it stands, he'd be the third such student I've taken on in Britain, though I suspect I may have a fourth asking to be added this evening."

"You've been quite vague regarding these 'techniques' that you'd be teaching my Neville," his hostess observed with a slight frown, "and I will not be agreeing to anything until I have a better understanding of what it is I would be agreeing _to_."

Having expected a query along those lines, Iruka stood. "If I may demonstrate?" At Madam Longbottom's nod, the chuunin calmly walked over to and several meters up the nearest wall. He turned and kept his face carefully blank to hide the slightly vindictive satisfaction he felt on behalf of his student at the older woman's expression of open-mouthed shock. "Based on the progress I've observed in the first British magical child I've trained, it would be at least a few years before Neville was able to do this; the intended benefits of the training would likely begin much sooner." Iruka casually vaulted from his position on the wall to land standing back in front of his chair, briefly drawing his wand to cast a quick cleaning charm to remove his footprints from the wallpaper before retaking his seat. "I would be teaching Neville how to use an energy my people call 'chakra', which as best I can tell is related to but distinct from magic, being drawn entirely from within the user. Both walking where it would normally be impossible and feats of otherwise inhuman strength and speed are common applications of chakra. If you'd like, I can contact the family of my first student and ask that they explain in further detail, as they've had more exposure to my abilities and have seen over a year of training in their child."

After a few fortifying sips of tea (which, if Iruka's nose was any judge, had itself been slightly 'fortified') Madam Longbottom seemed to rally from her shock. "I will try to... _adjust_ the way I speak to my grandson, and will ensure that the rest of our family is aware of that aspect of the program. Would I be correct in presuming that you do not wish the precise nature of your abilities or training bandied about?" At Iruka's nod, she continued. "Then I shall simply say that Neville is receiving personalized lessons designed to bring out his potential. If anyone enquires further, I will inform them that the lessons are private and proprietary, and thus none of their business. Please do contact the Lovegoods - and don't look at me like that, it's rather obvious after all - and I shall look forward to speaking with them. In the meantime, you may begin training Neville as soon as you consider appropriate."

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It was no surprise to Iruka when Hermione Granger hung back after that night's Sealing class. She'd been clearly preoccupied the entire session, often looking at him with an expression that tended to bounce between apprehensive and calculating. He simply continued on as normal, chuckling inwardly at the hint of irritation he could see creeping into the girl's eyes. As the students filed out, he stood at his desk calmly tidying up and gathering his notes for the evening. Once it was just the two of them left, he heard her footsteps approaching his desk, and finally looked up and acknowledged her presence. "Something I can help you with, Ms. Granger?" he asked with the same studiedly innocent look he'd perfected as a mischievous Academy student.

The first-year huffed, before schooling her irritated pout into something more neutrally respectful as Iruka held back another chuckle. "I was hoping to speak with you about Tuesday night..."

"Did you really move like that? How? What else can you do? Can I learn? Will you teach me?" Iruka fired the questions at her in rapid sequence, before grinning broadly at her expression of naked shock slowly morphing towards one of mild offense. "Really, Ms. Granger, it wasn't that hard to figure out what you wanted to ask. In answer to those questions: Yes, by using a technique from my homeland, quite a few things, most likely, and if I get permission from your parents."

He was glad to see his estimate of her intelligence borne out as she was clearly working through the conversation in her mind, matching answers to questions. "I'll send them an owl tomorrow morning," she nodded.

* * *

 **A/N: And thus does Iruka begin to gather students.  
**

 **A quick reminder/plug: I posted a little Halloween drabble on the day, a little Sandman (mostly) story titled "Jack".**

 **To guest reviewer "enjoyed": I hadn't really thought about how Iruka was first hired at the Academy. If I were to write it myself, I'd probably have some of the more senior staff that remembered him as a student not wanting him to teach, but the Third Hokage persuading them to give him a chance.**

 **To guest reviewer "tt": You're welcome, and thanks for your support!**

 **To guest reviewer "lisa": This version of Iruka is from a bit before Chapter 700, which seems to be set at least 15 years after the Fourth War, thus putting Iruka in his early 40s.**

 **In response to a reviewer that felt killing the troll would be safer than fleeing it, there are a few concerns with fighting the troll: First and foremost, Iruka has never fought a troll before, and knows very little about them, which means he doesn't know exactly how tough its flesh and bones are, or how long it'll take to die if killed; there's every chance that the fight would drag on, and the longer it went the greater the chances of Hermione getting hurt. Second, the person he's protecting is an untrained civilian, and thus unpredictable; if Hermione ran out at the wrong time, she could compromise them both. Third, the fact that he has to protect someone means that he'd have to fight more aggressively and take greater risks. Fourth (and related to the first), he doesn't know how long the troll would continue to be dangerous after suffering a mortal injury; many creatures (especially those with simpler nervous systems) can continue to act (albeit in an uncoordinated way) for at least a few seconds after their deaths, meaning that even a killing blow might not put the troll down immediately.**

 **By contrast, he saw that he could easily outrun the troll once he got past it, and saw a fairly safe way to get past. With the troll already mid-swing, its chances of effectively attacking the place its club just was are somewhere between jack and squat, especially given how slow on the uptake it was. Iruka and Hermione were ten meters down the hall and retreating fast by the time it even noticed its targets were gone. He got Hermione out of the dangerous situation by the most expedient route he saw, without risking the unknown.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Fake Psychics and Psychic Paper" by Sarah1281 - It's a silly little romp where the Tenth Doctor picks up the main duo from Psych rather than Martha. Chaos ensues, even if it at some points feels like a bit of a fix-fic.**

 **Posted 05 November 2017  
Edited 2 April 2019: Tweaked the first scene divider  
**


	16. 1-6: Game On

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

Iruka was sitting in his office, adding the latest updates to his increasingly long report. He'd first begun writing a log of the events surrounding his unexpected trip, and his observations at his destination, a few days after Pandora Lovegood's recovery. There were actually two versions: One was written in a cipher used by the allied forces during the Fourth Great War, designed to act as something of a primer on this new world/nation/society in case any other ninja ended up here after Iruka either made it home or died. The other, encrypted more deeply in a code he only had clearance to know because of his administrative work in Konoha's government, was far more thorough. It contained a complete record of his experiences and observations, as well as his research and the theories he'd come up with regarding the relationship between magic and chakra. Both versions were kept in storage scrolls, along with stacks of books and other items obtained locally (beginning with instructional materials for learning English). While there was no telling if either report would ever reach a fellow shinobi, he owed it to anyone that might follow in the future to leave a record for them, and to Konoha to tell them everything he reasonably could.

Given the arrangements Iruka had made with Madam Longbottom the previous day, it was no surprise to the chuunin when he heard a timid knock on his office door during the first years' free period on Friday afternoon. Sealing up and setting aside his work, he called for his visitor to enter. His expectations were confirmed as Neville Longbottom hesitantly stepped through the door.

"My Gran - that is, Madam Longbottom - owled me that I should come and talk to you this afternoon, Professor." The first-year was clearly uncertain as to the _reason_ behind his grandmother's instruction, and equally clearly did not expect that reason to be good for him.

Iruka smiled warmly, trying to reassure his somewhat frightened student, and waved towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, take a seat." After Neville complied, he stepped around to the other chair and summoned over the tea set, pouring each of them a cup. "I spoke to her yesterday because I wanted to get her permission to teach you some things beyond the Sealing Arts. Outside of Professor Sprout (who has nothing but praise for your work in herbology), the other staff said that you've been struggling a bit with their classes." Neville's face fell at this, and his gaze turned towards the bottom of his teacup. "Personally, I think that you have a lot of potential, and that what I have to teach you should help you better realize that potential." Now the young Gryffindor's eyes snapped to his teacher's, showing a riot of emotion and clearly searching for signs of sarcasm or deceit.

"You've been told so many times that you're a squib, or at best a weak wizard, that some part of you has started to believe it. Magic is heavily influenced by our emotions, our focus, our will, and our belief. The more you believe, the more you _know_ that your spell is going to work, the better the chances are that it _will_ work. I suspect that the damage done to your self-confidence may be one of the biggest things getting in your way, but I'm hoping that learning something new, something that almost nobody else in Britain can do, will help you realize how capable you really are. Learning additional ways to protect yourself won't hurt, either. Some of the exercises I plan to teach you will also help boost your memory and your ability to focus in difficult conditions. On top of all that, I can't be totally sure, but I strongly suspect that some of the exercises will help grow your magical strength." He didn't think Neville would yet appreciate the added confidence boost that could come a few years down the line when the physical component of the exercises (or rather the physique they produced) would likely start drawing appreciative looks from his schoolmates.

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The rest of Neville's visit had gone much like Harry's had. Neville had required slightly more explanation of Iruka's otherworldly origins (offered up as a token of trust, to encourage the boy to eventually open up in return), and while he had shown greater difficulty in beginning the meditation exercise, seemed far more comfortable once he reached his meditative state.

Two down, one to go.

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Anyone that bothered to look could see that Harry Potter was very obviously nervous at breakfast on Saturday. Iruka could only assume that this was due to the fact that his first ever Quidditch game would be taking place in a few hours. As much as he loved flying, Harry had confessed, the thought of having to perform in front of so many people was more than a little terrifying. This was one place where Harry was the complete opposite of Naruto: Where the latter had been ignored and thus done anything and everything to get attention, the former had been conditioned to associate drawing attention with being punished and thus avoided the spotlight as much as possible (which at Hogwarts was unfortunately little, given his celebrity status). Still, the young wizard had commented, at least with Quidditch any praise would be for _his_ deeds, rather than his parents' sacrifice.

At the game itself, Iruka elected to sit with the other teachers in attendance. He was seated between Babs and Pomona Sprout and behind Filius Flitwick, with Minerva busy in the commentator's box riding herd on Lee Jordan (a friend of the Weasley twins, and nearly their equal in mischief). Charlie Weasley had explained the rules of the game while teaching him to fly, but this would be the first time the shinobi would get to see the game actually played. Now he was engaged in a discussion with those around him on whether the point value of the Golden Snitch should be adjusted up or down based on the level of play (something Pomona favored), or perhaps based at least in part on the points the successful Seeker's team had already scored (the position taken by Filius and by Septima Vector). Iruka was just advocating for the team captains to negotiate or bid on the Snitch's value before each game based on their assessments of the two teams when Mr. Jordan announced the entry of the teams.

The Slytherin team's strategy left Iruka distinctly unimpressed; it was neither ambitious nor cunning to rely on large players, brute force, and dirty play rather than actual skill, talent, and strategy. Gryffindor, on the other hand, was far more impressive: Their Keeper was a veteran player with a lot of skill, their Chasers were both talented and well-coordinated, and the Weasley Twins seemed to function as a single person in two places. As for Harry, from the moment he kicked off the ground even Iruka's inexperienced eye could tell how effortless his flying was, and how totally at home the boy was in the air. Lee Jordan, meanwhile, continued to provide a colorful play-by-play while attempting to drive his Head of House to distraction and getting more than a few chuckles from those spectators not wearing Slytherin green. Overall, the chuunin felt that the gameplay was interesting but he wondered if there were any real safeguards against the rather obvious dangers of high-speed impacts and long falls.

Shortly after a particularly shameless foul against Harry by Slytherin's captain, Iruka felt a spike of sakki from behind him on his left, strong enough to put him instantly on high alert. A surreptitious glance around identified the source as Professor Quirrell, but judging by the turbaned man's skyward gaze, its target was one of the players. _Which_ player was soon made clear as Harry's broom began to jerk and buck wildly, as if trying to throw him off. At the height his student was flying, Iruka knew that even most ninja wouldn't survive that drop. Even as he watched, his mind racing, the broom weaved and zigzagged its way higher and higher, its movements becoming increasingly violent as it went. Another longer glance at Quirrell showed that he was staring fixedly at Harry, and Iruka realized that the man wasn't blinking - this gave him an idea.

Hiding his hands in his lap, Iruka flashed through a series of hand signs while molding water-natured chakra. Soon, tendrils of mist began to fill the stands as his _kirigakure no jutsu_ took hold. He hoped he was right in his guess that Quirrell needed unbroken eye contact to maintain his attack.

Just as the mist started seriously thickening, however, a sharp gust of wind blasted it away. Iruka looked around for the source, but at least half the adults around him had their wands out by now. He could only presume that one of them wanted to keep their view of the pitch clear in case they needed to try and save Harry from a fall. Redoubling his efforts, Iruka poured his chakra into the jutsu, coalescing the mist again, this time at a speed that was blatantly unnatural. Despite his efforts to break Quirrell's line of sight, the wind arose again and dispersed his mist. While he didn't want to draw the clearly murderous professor's attention just yet, nor show more of his abilities than was necessary, the ninja was rapidly reaching the point of taking more overt action.

It was as he was gathering his chakra for his strongest disorientating genjutsu that Iruka saw Quirrell suddenly pitch forward into the next row of seats, before Professor Snape's robes suddenly caught fire. Spotting a small figure with bushy brown hair scooping blue flames into a jar, he knew that his upcoming discussion with Ms. Granger would be _interesting_.

Gazing up once more showed that Harry's broom was back to normal, and he was now entering into a steep dive that ended as he tumbled off his broom onto the pitch, looking as if he were about to be sick. What emerged from the young Gryffindor's mouth, however, was a small golden ball, which was promptly held up in triumph. Iruka found himself raising his opinion of the boy once again: If he was able to resume play that quickly and effectively so soon after nearly suffering a fatal mishap, his focus and determination had to be impressive indeed.

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After confirming that Harry was unharmed, Iruka made his way to the Headmaster's office as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself or appearing to hurry.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," he began as soon as he had confirmed they were alone in the room, "I strongly suspect that Professor Quirrell just made an attempt on Harry Potter's life."

To an untrained civilian, Dumbledore's response would have shown mild surprise and little else. Iruka could see that behind that mask, the man's mind was working full-speed. "May I enquire as to what happened, and why you believe Quirinus to be responsible?"

With a grim nod, Iruka assumed a parade-rest stance before reporting. "While watching today's Quidditch match from the teachers' box, I sensed an alarming spike of..." he frowned. "There is no direct English translation. We call it 'sakki' - you could translate it as 'bloodlust', 'intent to kill', 'murderous intent', or something along those lines. It isn't hate, more the emotion of a predator focused on killing its prey, though the two emotions can certainly occur together."

"Regardless, I sensed an intense amount of sakki from nearby, and found that it seemed to be coming from Professor Quirrell, who was staring at Mr. Potter. Within seconds, Mr. Potter's broom began to malfunction, its movements becoming increasingly erratic and violent, as if it were trying to throw him off. Given how high above the pitch he had been flying, and the fact that the broom began to ascend further during this event, an unchecked fall would have almost certainly been fatal."

"Noticing that Quirrell was maintaining unblinking eye contact with his target," Iruka continued, "I attempted to break his line of sight using a technique from my homeland to call up a dense fog. Unfortunately, another presumably well-meaning member of staff repeatedly used a wind spell to disperse my mist. I was just considering taking more direct and overt action when a third party intervened, knocking Quirrell over and disrupting his attack. As soon as this occurred, Mr. Potter's broom returned to normal, and he was able to catch the Snitch and end the game in his team's favor, returning to the relative safety of the ground in the process."

Headmaster Dumbledore was silent for several moments, clearly mulling over Iruka's account. "I had already begun to suspect that all was not right with Quirinus," he said finally, "after the events of Tuesday night. It was most strange for him to flee in terror from a troll, as he had previously shown a great deal of talent at handling the creatures. A lone troll should have been no trouble for him to direct in a safe direction, and yet he ran screaming into the Great Hall. With your report of today's events, I am now certain that Quirinus has malicious intentions, and given whom he targeted today, his sympathies likely lie with those of a Darker persuasion. Our problem now is _proof_ ; without it, we cannot hope to see Quirinus incarcerated or otherwise rendered harmless, but we currently have no more than our own experiences and some deeply suspicious occurrences. Were we to attempt to remove him at this juncture, he would undoubtedly be found innocent of any wrongdoing, and would return warier, angrier, and possibly more desperate - things that would make the task of stopping him more difficult while greatly increasing the potential danger to our students. Much as it pains me, I am afraid that for now we shall have to pretend ignorance while remaining subtly watchful. I would ask you to continue to monitor the situation, but refrain from acting openly against Quirinus unless he poses an immediate threat. For anything else, report to me as quickly as you can without arousing suspicion. I too will keep watch over him as my duties allow, as will certain others, and with luck we will soon have the proof that we need to thwart whatever nefarious plans he may have and ensure that he no longer poses a threat to the innocent."

At Iruka's answering nod, the Headmaster smiled brightly. "Excellent! And while we the subject of Tuesday evening is raised, I feel that I should thank you, both for retrieving Ms. Granger and for your decisive action in preventing me from making a rather dangerous mistake. My ill-considered instructions were based on longstanding Hogwarts emergency protocols, which call for securing the students inside their Houses, but which I have now amended to account for situations in which it would be wiser to guard the students at their current location. You may well have saved student lives, both that night and during potential future incidents."

Iruka relaxed at this, and returned a small smile of his own. "Thank you, Headmaster. All schools in Konoha have comparable emergency protocols, and we staff are trained to carry them out efficiently and safely. We also conduct occasional emergency drills, simulating various forms of emergency in order to teach the students how to respond. Perhaps similar drills could be designed for Hogwarts?"

Professor Dumbledore's grin grew even wider. "It would certainly make directing the students easier during an emergency if they already had some idea of what to do. I shall raise the matter at the next staff meeting, and hope we may prevail upon your experience to help the rest of us design these drills and a plan for conducting them. Such policy changes are thankfully the purview of Hogwarts' staff, and do not require input nor approval from the Board of Governors; as with any such body, one can be certain of encountering objections to even the most obviously sensible of proposals."

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After Professor Umino left, Albus again reflected on the traveler. His bearing while delivering his report was again clearly military, once more suggesting experience as a professional soldier. Albus was beginning to suspect that this 'academy' at which the man had previously taught was a military training school. Also, although he was reasonably certain that everything the Professor had said was accurate, there were also clear omissions and evasions woven into his account: He had mentioned a 'technique' from his homeland, but had not elaborated, and whatever it was didn't particularly sound like one of his seals; he also didn't identify the "third party" whose intervention resolved the situation. Once more it seemed as if every answer about the visiting Seals teacher simply led to more questions - a mystery Albus would be quite enjoying were it not for the fact that it was intertwined with another matter that was endangering his students...

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 **A/N: Now, given that the students are all sequestered in the Great Hall two years later, it's likely that the policy change Dumbledore is crediting Iruka for inspiring would have happened anyway, but they certainly don't know that. I probably won't be showing the staff meeting where they plan out the new emergency policies or any of the emergency drills, since to be honest they'd be fairly boring and not advance the plot or characters any.  
**

 **To a guest reviewer on the previous chapter: I'm glad you enjoyed it, but I'm afraid I'm happily married already ;)**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Seventh Safeguard" by Charlotte Ann Kent - a brilliant HP/Sherlock Holmes crossover, in which Holmes' brilliant mind is applied to the problem of the horcrux hunt. What makes this particular fic so special is that it's written in the style of Doyle's stories, which adds so much flavor and ambiance.**

 **Posted 19 November 2017**


	17. 1-7: Sensei

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Given her eager and inquisitive nature, the arrival of Hermione Granger at his door that afternoon didn't come as much surprise to Iruka, who beckoned the girl into his office with a smile. "Welcome, Ms. Granger. Before we begin, I'd like to give ten points to Gryffindor for assisting a Professor. It would have been more and earlier, but I don't know whether the point assignments are recorded anywhere, and I don't want Quirrell finding out that it was you who thwarted his attempt on Mr. Potter's life this morning."

The first-year added shock to her existing expression of confusion. "Professor Quirrell? But I thought Professor Snape..."

"Ah, you thought he was the one responsible? That _would_ explain why you set him on fire." Iruka grinned wryly. "I'd been thinking he was a target of opportunity or intended as a diversion of some kind. No, Quirrell was the only one there putting out any sakki, or murderous intent, and it was as soon as you knocked him over that the trouble stopped. I had been trying to block his line of sight using mist, but a well-intentioned colleague kept dispersing it before it completely formed. Your actions saved me from having to act more openly and revealing more than I would have liked, so thank you for that. Anyway, I'm guessing you got a favorable response from your parents?"

His student responded by numbly holding out a folded sheet of paper while wearing a similar stunned and bewildered expression to those experiencing **YOUTH!** for the first time. "I got my parents' reply this morning," she said quietly, "and they've given their permission to take lessons from you." Iruka found the paper to be a handwritten note from her parents granting permission for their daughter to take supplementary lessons on his native magics, with the understanding that nothing in the lessons would be harmful, dangerous, or age-inappropriate.

With a satisfied nod, the displaced ninja dropped the note into a desk drawer. "Excellent. Would you like to begin now?" Her rapid nodding drew an amused smile. "Why don't you have a seat, then? I'll make us some fresh tea while we talk." Knowing that his newest student would prefer a more structured environment, he chose to remain behind his desk for now, rather than focusing on approachability as he had with Harry and Neville.

"Now, I'm guessing that your first questions are about how I moved the way I did Tuesday night. The people of my homeland know how to use an energy we call 'chakra', which from my research seems to be related to magic but also different. One of those differences is in how we use the two energies."

"With magic, it's mostly used in wand-based spells, such as charms and transfigurations, and generally aimed at something external. With chakra, much of how we use it is internal, or at least very close to our bodies. As you saw, it can be used to greatly boost one's speed, strength, agility, and reflexes; it also can improve senses and resistance to injury. When I was running on the walls and ceiling, it was by gathering a carefully-balanced amount of chakra in the soles of my feet to be able to stand somewhere that wouldn't normally be possible. And, of course, it's all wandless, though some people do use tools or foci for specific things. There are other things that chakra can be used for, such as the mist this morning, but we'll be focusing mostly on self-application."

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After a brief bit of discussion of chakra theory (reassuring Hermione that they'd cover the topic in greater depth later), they moved on to the meditation exercises. Hermione had a great deal of difficulty entering and maintaining a meditative state - her mind was too active to easily quiet her thoughts. It was going to be a work-in-progress, though Iruka suspected that once she mastered the early steps, the later ones would come much more quickly and easily given her already-disciplined mind.

During the chat that followed the meditation lesson, he decided to broach a more difficult topic. "I had already been planning to speak to you about this, or ask Professor McGonagall to do it, but Tuesday's incident changed the timetable a bit. You've probably already realized this somewhat, but your behavior has been alienating your fellow students somewhat." The girl's expression showed shock, hurt, and at least a hint of betrayal. She opened her mouth to respond but Iruka held up a hand to forestall her. "We both know that it's not intentional on your part, and that you're trying your hardest, but you need to understand how some of your actions and words come across to your peers."

"For starters, there's your academic success. I would never tell you to slack off in your classes; any teacher worth the title should encourage their students to reach as far as they can. However, I'm sure you can see how other students are going to be jealous of your talents, the same way they're jealous of their peers who are more popular than they are, better at Quidditch, better looking, or in any other way more successful in something. That's just human nature - nothing anyone can do will change it. What we _can_ do is change how we handle our own success. Think of the fellow student you've found yourself most resenting, either here or at a previous school. Would you even consider describing them as 'humble'?" At Hermione's scowl and vigorous head-shake, he continued. "I'm betting that they were rich, or popular, or something along those lines?" A nod. "Now think of other students that share the same type of success, and think of the ones you don't dislike. Compare them. What's the big difference?"

After a few moments' though, Hermione responded. "They don't strut around, or sneer at other people. The likeable students are humble; the unlikeable ones are arrogant or conceited."

Iruka smiled proudly at his student. "Exactly. They _have_ their successes, but they don't flaunt them or rub them in other people's faces. Now, look at your own behavior as it relates to your academic success. Do you answer questions when asked, offer other people your knowledge, or spout information without prompting? Do you ever criticize others for not living up to your academic standards? Do you give others a chance to show their own intelligence?" He paused to allow her to ponder his questions. The look of concentration on her face gradually became more of a frown, as she was clearly not liking the answers that she was finding.

"I spoke to Professor Flitwick about the Charms class that prompted Mr. Weasley's rude comments, and while his words were inappropriate, you need to understand the mistake you made as well. When he was having trouble with the Levitation Charm, you didn't say 'would you like some help', but instead something closer to 'you're doing it wrong'. It may not have been deliberate, but you were definitely insulting and somewhat arrogant in your attitude."

"Your professors have also noted that your essays are often much longer than what was assigned. Going a bit over is fine, as long as what you've written is relevant and not padded, but constantly overshooting by a wide margin can be a problem. Remember, the professors you're handing these to have to grade dozens of essays; even if you impress them with your knowledge, they won't appreciate having to spend half again as much time reading your work as any of your classmates. Reciting facts by rote will get you by, but what they're really looking for is your _understanding_ of the material. For another thing, consider how it looks to other students: They work hard just to make the required length, and you're visibly and blatantly outstripping their efforts. To them, it could look like you're showing off."

"Again, I'm not telling you to give less than your best effort, but try to change the way you do it. When a professor asks a question in class, give other students a chance to answer before you raise your hand. Go ahead and offer your help sometimes when someone is struggling, but be patient with people that don't grasp things as quickly as you do. If your essay is much longer than requested, especially if it's over a stated maximum length, look it over and ask whether everything you've written is really relevant. Try and condense what you've written down to its' essential points; it will impress the professor more if you can show a greater depth of understanding and draw conclusions on your own."

Hermione was staring at him with rapt attention, and her hands twitched slightly, as if wishing for some sort of writing materials to take notes.

"There's a lot of world outside your books, Ms. Granger. Make sure that you look up from the books now and then, and see the world around you. Also, always remember this very important fact: Books are written by people. People can make mistakes, they can omit facts, they can have biases, and they can lie. If a wizard writes a book about magical history, chances are that book will paint wizards from their country in the best light. This doesn't mean that books are worthless, just that they're not perfectly correct and complete. If what's written in a book doesn't match reality, chances are it's not reality that's wrong."

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"Okay, it's almost time for dinner, so we should probably wrap this up for today. We can work out a regular meeting time if you'd like to keep having private talks; you wouldn't be the only student I'm working with. For now, you should head down to the Great Hall, and I'd like you to ask Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom to follow you after breakfast tomorrow; I'm hoping we can make a start on the more physical side of training for all three of you. We can all use the room I train in: It's on the seventh floor, by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance. Do you know where that is?" The shake of Hermione's head left him to think for a moment before coming to a decision.

"Flippy!" The house-elf appeared with a muffled crack, startling the girl. "Flippy, this is Hermione Granger, one of the students I'm tutoring. She'll be calling you after lunch, and I'd like you to lead her and her companions up to the Come and Go Room." He turned to his student, who was looking at Flippy with curiosity and a hint of recognition. "Hermione, this is Flippy. Since, judging by your expression, you're not particularly familiar with her kind, I should explain that she's a house-elf. They're symbiotic beings that work in magical places in exchange for room, board, and a bit of magic. Nothing makes them happier than working to take care of people they like, and they're very proud of their work. Don't try to pay them - they consider it an insult - and _never_ try to pass them or offer them any item of clothing, as giving a house-elf clothes is considered somewhere between sacking an employee and disowning a family member. That's why they wear garments made from non-clothing items like towels, pillowcases, curtains, and the like."

"Anyway, after breakfast, call for Flippy. If the three of you can't do training tomorrow morning, just tell her to let me know. Otherwise, she'll show the three of you where to go to find the room we'll be working in. Don't go announcing things to everyone, but don't actively try to hide it either: Hiding our training sessions would imply that we're doing something we shouldn't. If asked about them, tell the truth, or refer the person to me for answers. We're not doing anything wrong, but at the same time I'd still prefer that only people we can trust know about what I can do, especially considering Quirrell's actions today."

"About that, Professor, what's going to happen to Professor Quirrell?" Hermione was clearly struggling with the situation: On the one hand, Quirrell was a Professor and thus a Respectable Authority Figure; on the other, he had just tried to murder a classmate that had the potential to be her friend.

"For the moment," Iruka responded with a slight frown, "I'm afraid the answer is 'nothing'. I and others are aware of the problem, but we don't have any real proof we could present to see him dealt with."

Now her expression shifted to a frown of concentration. "You don't want him realizing you know it was him until you're sure you can get him removed?"

"Removed, arrested, anything that would get him away from students. Today was actually at least the _second_ time he's endangered a student." Iruka told her with a proud smile.

"The second?" He watched as she puzzled over his statement before her eyes widened. "The _troll?!_ " She nearly shrieked the last word.

His smile widened. "Very good. Yes, we're pretty sure he let the troll in, likely to distract attention while he headed for the forbidden corridor. I doubt he was happy when almost everyone ended up staying inside the Great Hall," he commented with a slightly smug smirk, "leaving him no chance to slip away."

"Regardless," Iruka continued, "for the time being you should mostly just keep your head down and try to avoid showing suspicion while taking reasonable precautions: Avoid eye contact until you can repel a passive Legilimency scan; don't let yourself or your friends end up alone with him, or make sure an adult that's in the loop knows about it if you can't avoid it. Right now, the only faculty I know for sure suspect Quirrell are myself and the Headmaster, but I'll let you know about any others. Finally, if something feels wrong, get a member of staff involved, even if they're not 'in the know' - better we tip our hand early than let someone get hurt, after all."

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Iruka was waiting in the Room when his three pupils arrived and promptly began gaping at the configuration he had set. The door opened into a small vestibule, with a door in each of the side walls near the entrance, marked with simple male and female figures; these doors led to modest shower/changing rooms. Next to these were a small set of cubbyholes on both side walls, one of which currently contained Iruka's teaching robes, socks, and dragon-hide boots, while another held his shinobi sandals. From the wood-floored vestibule was a slight step up onto the padded floor of the main training area.

In terms of footprint, the room was a large oval, even bigger than the Great Hall (and far larger than this part of the castle should have permitted), with a running track marked out all around its edge. The vestibule was set near the left-hand end of one of the straight sides. Inside from the running track in the nearer rounded end of the room was a meter-deep pool of water, while the far end housed a circle of grass-covered earth, from which tall straight-trunked trees reached towards an all-glass ceiling high overhead. A course of low balance beams and other simple obstacles ran most of the room's length, with some of the obstacles set in or on the water or among the trees, and mirrors covered the straight portion of the far wall.

Standing just inside from the vestibule and wearing his full uniform (minus sandals), the chuunin greeted his newest group of pupils. "Welcome to my training room. Through these doors are changing areas, where I've taken the liberty of providing suitable exercise clothes for each of you." He'd gotten their sizes from the house-elves and picked up T-shirts and tracksuits in London. "Hogwarts' school robes are fine for classwork, but they're a bit too restrictive for what we'll be doing. You'll also be able to shower before changing back. Go ahead and get changed now - you can leave your clothes and shoes in either the changing rooms or the cubbyholes, whichever you'd prefer."

A few minutes later the three returned, and Iruka beckoned them up onto the mats. He began with a soft smile, "When we're not in class, you can call me 'Iruka-sensei', or just 'Sensei'. The word 'sensei' means 'teacher' in my language, and it's what all my students back home call me. In return, I'd like to be able to keep calling you by your first names during our talks and training. Anyway, this room is where we'll be doing the more physical side of your training, along with any other group lessons, though individual meetings can certainly continue either regularly or just as-needed. Now, let's get started with a little warm-up..."

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In deference to his students' relative lack of physical conditioning, Iruka had them alternating between demanding exercise and less strenuous tasks like learning the first Academy kata, or working on their balance, interspersed with occasional rest breaks. It didn't particularly surprise him that Harry handled the calisthenics best, while Neville with his sheltered upbringing was struggling the most. During the first rest break, he gave them a demonstration similar to what he'd shown the Lovegoods, though the taller and more numerous trees and the obstacle course allowed him to show off a bit more than the glen in Devon. Even Hermione, who'd seen how he could move a few days earlier and knew about his mist, was left astonished by things like his water clone. Throughout the training, he watched as the three lonely children began to make the first tentative overtures towards what he hoped would be a beneficial friendship for all three.

While their bodies were being exercised, Iruka fed their minds with some of the basic theory behind chakra, though he also made sure to review it during a break when they were more able to focus. All the while, he kept providing advice and encouragement, often explaining not just _what_ they were doing, but also _why_. Occasionally, he'd even slip in bits about the Elemental Nations - the geography, the culture, the history, and some of his friends and acquaintances back in Konoha - though he focused heavily on the less-violent aspects; they were still underage civilians, after all.

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 **A/N: Technically still the regular day, just a lot later than usual. My wife and I were visiting family for Thanksgiving, and only got back home this afternoon.  
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 **Anyway, now we see Iruka's current roster of students - three at Hogwarts, with a fourth to join at the start of the next year. A lot of this chapter was Iruka lecturing Hermione, but hopefully we're largely out of the 'lectures' part. Next chapter is much less monologue-y.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "No Way In Hell" by Lucillia - Sasuke gets a clue as to Naruto's true parentage, and proves that denial can be a way of life.**

 **Posted 26 November, 2017**


	18. 1-8: Observation

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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As soon as he had heard of the Disillusionment charm and its effects, Iruka had made certain to master it. What self-respecting shinobi _wouldn't_ want access to such near-perfect camouflage? The only ninjutsu he knew of that served a similar purpose was an Earth-style ninjutsu, one of his weaker affinities, so having a magical analogue was definitely appealing.

It was using this camouflage that had Iruka hidden and observing several of today's History of Magic class sessions, and to put it simply, he was not impressed. Even when discussing historical events that were both pivotal and exciting, Professor Binns simply droned on emotionlessly. How were the students supposed to consider the information important if it was being delivered with such utter bland apathy? It was frankly no wonder that those few students who remained awake through the class mostly did so by completely ignoring their professor and self-studying History or doing work for their other classes. Given the fact that the ghostly teacher couldn't correctly name his students (or, indeed, some of his fellow faculty at staff meetings), Iruka suspected that trying to talk through the problem with him would be an exercise in futility. He'd have to go up the chain of command and speak with Minerva to see if anything could be done, but first, he had another class to observe.

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Since he was most interested in the first-year Gryffindor/Slytherin session of Potions, Iruka was forced to wait until Friday to carry out his second bit of classroom espionage, though he did make some use of the intervening days to get a look at the dungeon area where the Potions classroom was located, and at least a few looks inside through the door as classes filed in and out. This allowed him to plan his approach, something he felt worth the effort as Professor Snape seemed a bit more observant and wary than average (and far more than Professor Binns). While he'd been able to just slip into the History classroom and hide before the first class arrived, chances were good that the door to the Potions classroom would be kept locked except during classes, and given Severus Snape's temperament, might be warded as well - not something Iruka was equipped to handle. Given the man's reported skill in the Mind Arts, he also didn't want to chance using a genjutsu until he knew how well or poorly they would work on a trained Occlumens.

This all led to Iruka perching, Disillusioned, on the wall above the door to the Potions classroom as the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins gathered (separately) outside on Friday morning. At precisely 0945, the door slammed open and the students began filing in. Taking advantage of both the short height of the students and the poor illumination (not the best idea when making volatile brews, he thought idly) he used chakra adhesion to clamber through the top of the doorway and onto the ceiling of the classroom, timing his move for shortly after Harry entered as his colleague's glare followed the boy. When an opportunity arose as Professor Snape was distracted, he moved silently from the ceiling to the floor, concealing himself in an out-of-the-way corner of the room and taking full advantage of the deep shadows.

Were it not for his commitment to remain hidden through multiple classes, he would have interrupted within the first ten minutes of the 135-minute lesson. Over drinks several years back, Naruto had related stories of how the other Academy instructors had treated him when Iruka wasn't around, and the chuunin had been appalled at the horrific behavior and outright abuse they'd heaped on the young jinchuuriki. Severus Snape made them all look like consummate professionals (well, except for Mizuki, but attempted murder and treason are hard to top). By the half-hour mark, Iruka had to clamp down on his emotions when he noticed the sheen of fear sweat on the pale Slytherin in front of him, a reaction to the increasing amount of sakki he was starting to emit. Even untrained, the blond boy's proximity meant he was getting a heavy enough dose to fray his nerves despite being unable to discern its source. The chuunin's mood wasn't helped when the child tried to throw something into Harry's cauldron, though he was able to foul the throw's aim with a quick-and-dirty burst of focused sakki. Of course, Snape saw the throw, and proceeded to take points from Harry for "tossing ingredients on the floor like a dunderhead".

That first-year class was certainly the nadir of the day, but the other classes still showed that Severus Snape had no business teaching (or even being near) children. He showed no concern for his students' safety or wellbeing, provided little if any real instruction, and blatantly favored Slytherins while bullying and tormenting children from the other three Houses.

Even if he thought that Severus Snape could be persuaded to improve his behavior, Iruka couldn't be confident enough in his own ability to make it through such a discussion without pulling a kunai on the man. He needed to talk with Minerva.

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"Come in!" Iruka did as he was bid and opened the door to Minerva's office. "Good evening, Iruka," the witch said with a slight smile, "do come in and have a seat." A wave of her wand transfigured the rather Spartan wooden chair in front of her desk into a high-backed armchair, which her guest found to be only slightly more padded than before but still significantly more comfortable. She quickly poured him a cup from her seemingly ever-ready teapot. "So, what brings you to my door at this hour?"

"I have... concerns, I guess, about two of our fellow staff members and their suitability as teachers." Seeing the scowl beginning to develop from his response, Iruka quickly continued. "Professor Binns is the less problematic of the two. His lectures are technically informative, but his apathetic monotone quickly destroys any interest most students might have in the topics being discussed, no matter how important or exciting they might be. I was able to observe a couple of his classes, and most of the students either self-studied, worked on material for their other classes, or simply napped through the entire class, and their professor allowed it all! To be honest, I'd bet that most of what the students learn in that class they learn in spite of its teacher, rather than from or because of him. I'd have spoken to him about this before coming to you, but I get the impression he wouldn't even remember the conversation afterward."

"The situation surrounding Cuthbert is unfortunately rather complex," Minerva frowned, "with a number of factors making it either difficult or inadvisable to remove or replace him. First and simplest is inertia - as the longest-serving member of Hogwarts' faculty, Cuthbert has certain privileges due to seniority, including the requirement that the Board of Governors would need to approve his dismissal. Wizards and witches, at least here in Britain, are deeply disinclined to change anything without strong reasons to do so. Many of those on the Board would take the attitude of 'I had History from Binns and I turned out fine,' particularly those old enough to have had him prior to his death. It would likely take significant convincing to garner enough votes to remove him on that basis alone."

"Secondly, I'm sure that since your arrival in Britain, you've become aware of certain... political divisions?" Iruka nodded. "While such divisions do not make _removing_ Professor Binns more difficult, they make _replacing_ him a rather chancy business. A more active teaching of History could significantly shape the political attitudes of young students for the rest of their lives, and so everyone would want the subject taught in such a way as to indicate the rightness of their own views. Neither the more progressive nor more conservative factions are positioned strongly enough at present to be confident of their ability to push through a replacement they approved of, and so both would rather remain with the unsatisfactory status quo than risk an engaging History course that promotes an opposing ideology."

"And in the meantime," Iruka sighed, "the children's education suffers because the adults can't stop squabbling. I really shouldn't be surprised; people are people and politics is politics, no matter where you are." He gave a defeated and somewhat exhausted shake of his head before refocusing. "Anyway, the other professor that concerns me is Severus Snape..." Minerva's raised hand halted him here.

"I'm certain you have heard many of the same outlandish tales of horror from his dungeon classroom that I have, but they are tales only. The fractious relationship between Slytherin and the other three Houses, combined with Severus's appearance and somewhat caustic nature have caused Hogwarts' already spectacular rumor mill to transform a strict and less-than-personable Professor into something with which to terrify credulous first-years. Surely, as a longtime teacher yourself, you have experienced the tendency of children and teens to exaggerate wildly?"

"Minerva, I know full well how readily most children embellish things, but the ones I spoke to are the type to _downplay_ such incidents. Still, their accounts were pretty unbelievable, so I decided to see for myself. I spent most of today hidden under a Disillusionment charm in the Potions classroom, observing the classes, and found that both students _had_ understated the problem. The first-year Gryffindor/Slytherin class this morning contained some of the most unprofessional and downright odious behavior I've ever seen in a supposed teacher, second only to the time one of my colleagues betrayed our village and tried to _murder_ one of my favorite students, nearly killing me in the process." Iruka proceeded to recount some of the worst abuses he had seen over the course of the day, watching as the normally unflappable woman across from him went from shock to a growing outrage. Finally, he wound down, and the room lapsed into a tense silence for nearly a minute.

"I..." Minerva finally stammered out, "I see. Unfortunately, while I am the final arbiter of student discipline, staff issues fall under the purview of the Headmaster, so it is him you will have to convince, and the Board of Governors might also have a say. Doubly unfortunate is the fact that Lucius Malfoy, the father of the misbehaving Slytherin first-year you described, is both a close associate of Severus Snape and a member of the Board. He would undoubtedly oppose any attempt to dislodge our current Potions 'teacher'." She spat the last word with an angry bite of sarcasm. "Albus, meanwhile, tends to respond to any criticism of the man by stating 'Severus Snape has my complete confidence,' or something similar. In hindsight, it was also Albus who convinced myself and many others on staff that the students' stories were mere tall tales, rather than signs of a very serious problem. Still, perhaps with your observations, we may be able to see some changes made." Here the witch rose, which prompted her guest to follow suit, and both immediately departed for the Headmaster's office.

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"Minerva, Professor Umino, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?" As usual, the Headmaster was seated behind his desk, a welcoming smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

Iruka suspected that neither the smile nor the twinkle would last long.

By far the senior member of staff, and with much fresher anger, Minerva took the lead. "I allowed you to convince me that the students' reports of abusive behavior by Severus Snape were exaggerations and fanciful rumors. Tell me, Albus, did you actually _investigate_ those reports when Pomona, Filius, and I brought them to you, or did you simply dismiss them as I'm beginning to realize you have dismissed so many of our concerns over the years?"

Iruka was right.

After gaping in shock for a moment, Dumbledore rallied. "I can assure you, Minerva, that Severus Snape has my complete confidence..."

Iruka winced.

"So you keep saying," Minerva interrupted her boss, "and yet according to what I have just heard either your confidence in Severus is misplaced or _my_ confidence in _you_ is!"

Iruka made a mental note to never get on Minerva McGonagall's bad side.

Headmaster Dumbledore was clearly reeling from his deputy's unaccustomed hostility. "Perhaps if you were to explain what precisely has so incensed you? I can hardly answer your questions nor your accusations while I am lacking in vital information, such as what you're even talking about." This last bit was said with a stern, irritated, and slightly sarcastic tone.

Iruka had to admit, the man had guts.

"Iruka came to me this evening with concerns about two of our professors. The first was Cuthbert, and I explained the complex and difficult situation surrounding our History Professor. When he then brought up Severus, I was quick to give him the same reassurance that I have offered the scores of students that have come to me in the past ten years with similar concerns: The horror stories about the man are mostly rumor and exaggerated hearsay. Imagine my shock, then, when he informed me that he had surreptitiously observed the Potions classes held today, and personally seen confirmation of many of the worst claims!"

Iruka stepped forward at this point, and began to again describe the events he had witnessed.

After the first few anecdotes (covering about the first twenty minutes of the morning class), a very dismayed-looking Dumbledore held up his hand to halt the recitation. "Rather than hearing these tales secondhand, I would much prefer to observe the events in question myself. Tell me, Professor Umino, have you ever heard of a pensieve?"

Iruka shook his head.

"To put it succinctly, it is a device which permits the storage and review of memories. I would like to ask if you might loan me a copy of your memories of your time observing today's Potions classes, so that I may view them for myself? The extraction process is painless and causes no harm; I would only be taking copies, not removing the memories as is also possible for occasions where one wants to review an event with fresh eyes."

Iruka somewhat nervously gave his agreement.

"Very well. Simply focus on the memories you wish to share; if you know any Occlumency, use it to push them forward. I will place my wand tip at your temple, and draw it away with a copy of the foremost memory, after which you will need to put the next one forward. Let me know when you are ready, and when I've got the last memory."

Iruka closed his eyes and focused, pushed the memories forward, then nodded.

Again and again, he felt the touch of a wand to his temple, each time feeling a strange pulling in his mind as the memory was copied away. After the last iteration, he opened his eyes and stepped back. "I shall begin reviewing these immediately," said the Headmaster, "and if Severus has truly been so badly mistreating his students, I shall make it abundantly clear to him that it will no longer be tolerated. To that end, I must bid you both good evening. Thank you both for bringing this to my attention."

Iruka followed Minerva out.

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It was nearing lunchtime on Saturday by the time Albus had finished reviewing the memories, stopping only for sleep and a quick elf-delivered breakfast in his office. Now, while munching on a similarly expedient lunch, he was left pondering what he had seen.

There was no question that Severus Snape's grudge against James Potter remained as bitter as it was during their Hogwarts years. That Severus would exercise that grudge upon an innocent child was shocking, even without considering that the man had sworn to the woman he professed to love that he would protect the son she died to save. To further compound the problem, it was also clear that while young Harry might be the primary focus of the Slytherin Head's vitriol, most of the students outside the house of snakes were subjected to varying degrees of abuse. Worse still was the clear and callous disregard Severus showed towards his students' safety, not correcting unsafe practices and dangerous errors that he had clearly seen but rather waiting until after mishaps occurred to berate and punish the errant students. He even seemed to be permitting, perhaps _encouraging_ the active sabotage of other students' potions in potentially dangerous ways!

When young Severus had first begun teaching at Hogwarts, there had been a few complaints regarding his conduct. Observation of several of his classes showed that his teaching style was largely acceptable: The newly-minted Professor was harsh and strict, even more so than Minerva, and did admittedly go too far at times in berating his students, but Albus had put it down to his inexperience and his still-raw grief over Lily Potter's death. Given his spy's importance in the eventual defeat of Lord Voldemort, he'd decided to give the man a bit of leeway, though he did privately admonish Severus to moderate his behavior somewhat. From there, the Headmaster's hectic schedule had kept him from conducting further inspections beyond some early checks to ensure that the classroom conditions had improved. He had simply (and erroneously, it now appeared) assumed that the ongoing reports of misconduct had been rumor based on his prior actions and dour attitude. Now, however, it seemed likely that the improvements had been temporary, and that the Potions Professor's misbehavior had escalated over the last decade.

The other staff member involved had not escaped Albus's scrutiny, either. He thought it rather telling that the memories were cleanly cropped to only show the time Professor Umino actually spent within the Potions classroom. It seemed likely that this was deliberate, an attempt perhaps to hide precisely _how_ the man had gotten into and out of the classroom undetected; he would have to check the walls and ceiling in the corridor nearby for footprints to determine if this was another case of the Sealing Arts teacher's extraordinary mobility. More directly puzzling were two incidents during yesterday's first class: In the first, Draco Malfoy showed signs of increasing apprehension as Professor Umino's outrage built; a causal link was made more probable by the fact that when the Professor noticed the boy's distress, he calmed himself and the boy soon relaxed. Not too long thereafter, young Draco attempted to sabotage Harry Potter's potion with a thrown reagent, but fumbled the throw at the last moment showing clear signs of acute terror that subsided fairly quickly. In neither case were Professor Umino's hands near his wand nor out of sight, though in the latter case his attention was clearly focused on the Malfoy scion, leaving no visible indication of _how_ he was able to affect the boy so profoundly without using visible spells or even having eye contact through which a wandless Legilimency connection could be made. Another mysterious ability to consider, it would seem.

At least Albus's confidence in the displaced Professor's motives and character was growing. Thrice now the man had risked the exposure of abilities he clearly wished to conceal, and in each case had been acting in the students' best interests. His proposed changes regarding the third-floor corridor would, had they been feasible, have only increased the security around the Stone, further lessening the probability that he was here coveting the artifact.

Placing the enigmatic traveler to the side for the moment, Albus returned to the matter at hand. If these memories were accurate, his Potions professor was bullying and endangering his students, not to mention undermining Hogwarts' discipline by abusing the House Points system. The latter, at least, could be readily confirmed. Drawing his wand, the Headmaster quickly summoned the master copy of the Book of Discipline, in which all detentions and point assignments and losses were recorded. He took a fresh sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill and set to work tallying Severus's recent activity, separated by House. As he worked, he noted several dubious and a few outright frivolous awards and penalties. After reaching this time last week, Albus felt that he had a reasonably representative sample, and gazed at his results in dismay: Slytherin had been given a wealth of points with only a handful of penalties, while the other three Houses had been heavily penalized with almost no awards of points. Could this pattern be the reason for Slytherin's long streak of House Cup wins?

Albus could feel his anger growing as he pondered the potential consequences of his spy's behavior as a Professor. Cheating Slytherin's way to the House Cup repeatedly and bullying other Houses set a very negative example for the young snakes, teaching them that such behavior was acceptable, encouraged, and beneficial. Couple this with the hostility it likely engendered in the other Houses, and it was likely that the students in green and silver were being pushed strongly towards the Dark, with few or no bonds outside their House to pull them back towards the Light. Abetting misbehavior by these students would only reinforce the poisonous lesson. Should Tom return, this could only ease his recruitment efforts. Conversely, it was likely that Severus's behavior would sour many non-Slytherin students on the entire subject of Potions, depriving their community of candidates for such beneficial occupations as Aurors and Healers. How many otherwise potentially-redeemable souls had already been lost to Darkness? How many children's dreams for their future careers had died in that dungeon classroom?

He couldn't act until he had full confirmation. To that end, he would emulate Professor Umino to a degree: Albus would conceal himself in the Potions classroom under the Cloak of Invisibility, and observe Monday morning's Gryffindor/Slytherin first-year class. Should the memories be proven accurate, there was no question that steps would have to be taken to remedy the problem. Planning those steps would be the Headmaster's task until then.

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 **A/N: Thus does Iruka begin to show that magic and ninja skills can complement each other. The penultimate scene's odd style was me having a bit of fun - when writing it initially, the second paragraph was phrased differently, but looking at the fourth and sixth gave me the idea to do the entire scene as it came out. I doubt it'll happen again, but I just can't bring myself to pass up obvious opportunities.  
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 **The Book of Discipline is a fanon concept, one of the few that I'm knowingly using for the sake of convenience.**

 **Regarding Dumbledore and Snape: In this fic, I'm basically having it that Dumbles figured everything was fine and the students were exaggerating, especially since Snape told him so, and never bothered to verify it for himself. He was simply too confident in his own assessment of the man's character and honesty (not that I think Severus Snape actually _had_ much of either) and his hubris combined with his lack of available time (due to holding three positions) to let the problem compound. When students complained at the start of each year, the staff blew them off due to their boss's assurances, which led the children to stop complaining because they figured it was pointless, which in turn led the staff to conclude that there was no problem.**

 **Sorry to all you Snape fans, but I'm writing him as I see him - a petty, bitter, vindictive bully that enjoys child abuse and endangerment. Even at eleven, he snooped and read Petunia's letter from Dumbledore, then later dismissed her as being only a Muggle. He didn't fall in with a bad crowd at Hogwarts because it was his only safe option, he did it because of their shared interests in power and Dark magic. When a sadistic fellow Junior Death Eater used Dark magic on an innocent schoolmate, he dismissed it as "a laugh". I could go on for a while, but suffice to say that I don't foresee him being heroic in this story.**

 **To the guest reviewer on Chapter 1-7: Thanks for your support! The fic recommendations are something I copied from some other writers that do the same thing. It's led me to some new stories I enjoyed, and so I wanted to pay that forward.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Merry Killers" by The Sage of Toads - A very slow-updating WIP, this is a Love Hina fic with one _huge_ twist to the premise. Hilarity ensues.**

 **Posted 03 December 2017**

 **Updated 10 December 2017: Added a paragraph (the third one) to the last scene better explaining/clarifying part of how Snape was able to behave so badly.**


	19. 1-9: Surveillance

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **A/N: I've added a paragraph to the last scene of the previous chapter that hopefully makes things make more sense.**

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As he watched the first Potions class on Monday morning - Gryffindor/Slytherin first-years - Albus didn't know whether to be pleased by Professor Umino's honesty and concern for his students or saddened at the truth in his report. When he saw Lucius Malfoy's son preparing to toss a toad liver into Harry Potter's cauldron, he settled on outraged at Severus's encouragement of such behavior among his Slytherins. A casual flick of his wand halted the offending organ in midair, and Albus watched the shock pass over both student and teacher's faces before removing the Cloak of Invisibility and stepping into view.

"Fifty points from Slytherin for endangering fellow students, Mr. Malfoy," he said with none of his usual warmth, "and one week's detention with Mr. Filch." The boy's head had whipped around at Albus's unexpected words, and he was now staring up at the Headmaster with shock tinged with apprehension and a bit of awe. Meeting the young Slytherin's gaze, Albus asked, "And where did you get the idea for such a dangerous prank?" That prompt, combined with a gentle Legilimency probe, showed him a flash of a tutoring session the previous day in which Severus had 'casually' commented on the fact that adding rat liver at this stage of today's potion would cause it to boil over violently, ruining the batch and possibly scalding the brewer.

"Class is dismissed." Three ice-cold words coming from their normally jovial Headmaster had the students quickly packing their possessions and departing the room, some having the presence of mind to extinguish the flames below their cauldrons first. Albus dealt with the rest of the burners with a wave of his wand, and waited for the room to empty of children.

He hated allowing the children to see him like this. Albus Dumbledore wore many faces: The kindly grandfather figure, the wise professor, the elder statesman - all of these were preferable to the face of the seasoned warrior of the Light, the only man Tom Riddle ever openly feared. It pained him beyond words that a number of first-year students now clearly shared at least a bit of that fear. While Tom may have reveled in others' fear, Albus loathed it; fear divided people, engendering hatred and violence instead of understanding, and causing no end of death, destruction, and pain. He had seen first-hand the terrible damage fear could do, and ever since then had worked to promote understanding and forgiveness in order to help prevent fear from taking hold. That Severus's actions had caused him to _spread_ fear instead of fighting it was yet another sin to lay at the man's feet.

Once the door had shut behind the last of the departing first-years, Albus made his way to stand beside the toad liver, still suspended in midair. As he walked, he made sure to apply several locking and privacy charms to the classroom door. Clearly recognizing his employer's intent, Severus rounded his desk and came forward to meet him before the hovering ingredient.

"Before you begin to complain about my harshness with Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you should take a closer look at precisely what he chose to throw into his classmate's potion." Albus's tone was light, almost casual, and only someone accustomed to reading his moods could have detected the underlying hint of steel. Severus's habitual scowl deepened at Albus's words, but he did as he was bid, before his already sallow complexion paled further. "Indeed. It would appear that when instructing young Draco, you neglected to indicate that using the liver of a poisonous creature such as a toad would, in addition to the effects you stated, release a cloud of toxic vapors that could cause permanent sterility in those inhaling them." This too was delivered in the same bland tone one would hear from the Headmaster at a typical staff meeting. He knew that Severus wasn't fooled; the Potions Professor was tense as a coiled spring, clearly aware of Albus's ire and awaiting its expression.

"Over the past decade, ever since you returned to Hogwarts to head your old House," Dumbledore continued, maintaining his calm through the application of considerable willpower, "Minerva, Filius, and Pomona have each brought reports to me of outrageous behavior by their new counterpart. Knowing the tendency of children to embellish and exaggerate their tales, particularly when coupled with Hogwarts' vibrant rumor mill, I reassured them that rumors and tales were what was reaching them. After all, you yourself confirmed this when I asked you, and I understood you to be seeking redemption for your... youthful indiscretions. I had every confidence that you would rise above the darkness in your past to become an exemplary teacher, sharing your knowledge of and passion for Potions with a new generation of students. Considering your experiences, both at home and here at Hogwarts, I was certain that you would be the _last_ teacher to countenance bullying or abuse among students."

"Yet, on Friday evening, two members of staff came to speak with me. It seems that one of them managed to do similarly to myself, and observed your classes that day without your knowledge. Their report of your behavior was so horrendous, so outrageous, that I had to believe it was more overblown rumor... until I witnessed their memories. Even watching in the memories of an adult, I still could not be certain; I still wanted to believe that it was all just some misunderstanding, that the man I had so vociferously defended these past ten years would not so grievously betray my trust. Thus, we come to my presence here today," the Headmaster said, his voice beginning to rise, "wherein I found that not only were your colleague's observations accurate, not only have you been bullying and _abusing_ many of your students, but you have actually _encouraged_ such behavior by students of Slytherin."

To his credit, Severus at least made no futile attempt to deny Albus's accusation, clearly knowing he was caught. He could not deny; nor could he defend, for his actions were indefensible. The only options left to the irascible man were therefore either to submit or to attack. Unsurprisingly, he chose the latter.

"I can only assume that Minerva took the lead in this complaining, as she so often does. Who was the other, then? Flitwick I could see having the skills to enter my classroom undetected, though it's Sprout that always seems to feel the need to coddle her precious little badgers. Merlin forbid anyone administer a bit of discipline to any of the little dunderheads. Regardless, it is no business of theirs how _I_ conduct _my_ lessons, unless we are suddenly to be critiquing each others' work? You know as well as I do that a firm hand is needed to keep the brats in line and showing proper respect..."

"Your definition of 'in line' would seem to need some adjustment," Albus interrupted, "judging by that toad liver. Tell me, how do you think Augusta Longbottom would have reacted if your godson had rendered her grandson sterile and forever ended the Longbottom family line? Lucius may have a silver tongue, and some skill at the Dark Arts, but Augusta is a formidable witch, and she would have been out for blood. Throw in causing similar damage to the last heir of the Potter line, a _national hero_ , and I suspect both you and Lucius would be lucky to escape with your lives; even young Draco might find his bodyguards replaced with Dementors!"

"Potter," Severus spat with a hateful sneer, "it always comes back to precious, perfect, _Potter_. Just like his father, he struts around the castle, expecting us all to bow down before his greatness. Everyone else is so desperate to lionize the arrogant brat; well I'd rather make sure the little _hero_ doesn't get a swelled head."

The Headmaster's frown deepened. "I do not know which student _you_ have been watching, Severus, but in my observations there seems to be very little of James in Harry. I have seen far more of Lily - you _do_ recall the woman you professed to love, and upon whose grave you swore to protect her son? - and occasional glimpses of Fleamont or Euphemia. No, if any child in this class behaves in a way resembling your schoolyard nemesis, it is not Harry Potter." At this, he turned to the floating liver. "The closest analog to a young James Potter is, I would say, in the house of snakes. I seem to recall a report from Horace in 1971 about giving detention to a pair of Gryffindor first-years for attempting to throw rat livers into the potions of a particular Slytherin classmate. Judging by your face, you remember the incident as well."

It was clear that the potions master was still busy swimming an Egyptian river; a more forceful approach would be required. "Rather than overcoming the trials of your youth, it would appear that you have embraced them, allowing your hatred to fester and turn you into a bully. Worse, you are a grown man bullying _children_." Albus steeled himself, hating the wound he knew his next words would inflict, but feeling it was at this point the only hope of making the man see sense. "Just like your father."

Severus's face went chalk-white, before flushing redder than Albus had ever seen before. His voice came out as a dangerous hiss. "How _dare_ you-"

" **I** _ **dare**_ **because it is the** _ **truth**_ **!** " The Grand Sorcerer bellowed angrily, all pretense of civility dropped, as jars of ingredients around the room briefly began to rattle in place from the force of his flaring magic. "You have _bullied_ and _abused_ three quarters of your students, while encouraging the remaining quarter to follow suit and aiding their efforts. You have _endangered_ the children in your care with your willful disregard for common safety protocols. You have undermined discipline across the entire school by deepening the animosity between the Houses, and we are quite fortunate that none of the students save possibly the Weasley twins have noticed that your favoritism has rendered House Points all but irrelevant. I cannot guess how many promising students you have driven away from the subject of Potions with your behavior, how many dreams you have destroyed, how many future Healers and Aurors you have denied a country that will desperately _need_ them should Lord Voldemort return. It is almost without question that you have worsened lives, probably ruined lives, and quite possibly _cost_ lives, all because you cling to your hatred of a man that died a decade ago for his actions as a _child_. No more."

"Effective _immediately_ , you will teach _all_ of your students properly, fairly, and impartially. You will not belittle them. You will not denigrate them. You will not abuse nor endanger them. You will seek to impart the knowledge of Potions to all students to the best of your ability."

"You will administer discipline without regard for house or heritage. No longer will you punish Gryffindors for imagined infractions, nor reward Slytherins for trivialities. If a Slytherin student misbehaves, you _will_ punish them appropriately. You will make it clear to your House that the behavior you have abetted and encouraged these past ten years will no longer be permitted. By all means, be strict in your administration of discipline, but be equally strict to _all_ students."

"I understand that you need to retain your connections to your former comrades, and I am certain that they will question the sudden change. My recommendation would be to tell them the truth - that I had been unaware of your actions, and upon becoming aware, demanded that you modify your behavior. Tell them also that I have threatened dire consequences should your prior actions continue. This will also be true," Albus's voice was barely above a whisper, but as cold and hard and menacing as a dagger at one's throat, "because if I find that you have continued to harm and endanger your students, Hogwarts, and Wizarding Britain by your actions, I will withdraw all of the protection I have granted you. I will conclude that the good you can do as a spy is outweighed by the harm you are causing in your role as a supposed teacher. I will publicly share _all_ I know about your actions during the last war. Being sacked from Hogwarts will be the _least_ of your concerns."

"Your classes for the remainder of this week are canceled, and all detentions assigned to you will be handled by other professors for the same period. Use this time to determine your course of action going forward, and hopefully to prepare for your revised teaching methods." With these parting comments, Albus turned, cancelling the Hover Charm on the liver with a small use of wandless magic and allowing it to drop to the floor with a small splat before drawing his wand to cancel the silencing and locking charms placed on the classroom door on his way out.

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Iruka found himself to have a trio of very apt and determined pupils. While it was still quite early, all three were beginning to show some results from both their training and their counseling.

Neville Longbottom had shown the most rapid benefit. Between the abrupt end to the professor's invective and the application of some basic calming exercises from the meditation training (at which Neville was clearly outpacing the other two), his Potions work had improved dramatically. He still made mistakes, due mostly to forgetfulness and lack of confidence, but his love of Herbology meant that these mistakes exclusively involved animal or mineral ingredients. It also helped that there were now far fewer attempts to sabotage his work by staff or student. His improved focus was also beginning to help his practical work in Charms, although Transfiguration was still something of a struggle with its reliance on clear visualization. Neville's general lack of fitness, however, left him still struggling to catch up to his peers in the physical portions of Iruka's training.

While Hermione Granger was avidly absorbing every bit of theoretical and historical knowledge Iruka imparted, her highly active mind was still proving a hindrance in achieving a meditative state. It was far from an unusual problem, and Iruka knew that once that hurdle was overcome, the later steps would likely prove far easier to accomplish for the girl with such an ordered mind. Neither Hermione nor her professors had reported any improvements in her learning rate, but she had clearly taken Iruka's admonitions about her overzealousness to heart, and more than one staff member had expressed their gratitude that she was now confining herself to a more reasonable length of essays. The shift from regurgitation to synthesis would take longer, but Iruka suspected that it would end up bearing fruit in her practical work. Where Hermione was showing the greatest immediate benefit, though, was in her social life: By backing off on her aggressive overachieving, her relations with her dormmates had apparently begun to warm slightly. Meanwhile, she had begun tentatively reaching out to the two shy boys with whom she shared Iruka's training, and already he could see the three lonely children forming a bond of friendship.

The greatest difficulty Harry Potter was encountering through his training was actually in maintaining the friendship he had developed with Ronald Weasley at the start of term. Harry's desire to take extra lessons, combined with his developing bonds with Hermione and Neville, left the youngest Weasley boy feeling marginalized and neglected. Meanwhile, Ronald's behavior on Halloween had not impressed his 'best mate'; his hurtful words towards a classmate (and now Harry's friend) verged a little too close to bullying for the tastes of someone that had himself been a victim of it far too often, and the insincerity of the boy's apology that night combined with his attitude since made it clear that he still didn't consider those words unwarranted. The two hadn't broken their friendship off, but there was clearly an element of tension now that hadn't been there before.

Of course, by spending more time in the company of Hermione and Neville, and less with the more lackadaisical Ronald, that led to Harry putting more effort into his schoolwork, and his marks bore this out. He already had a remarkable intuitive aptitude for practical magic, especially Charms and Defense, but was now beginning to pick up a bit more of the theoretical side of things. As far as the physical component of Iruka's training went, Harry's cruel upbringing actually showed some small benefit, as he turned out to possess quite a bit of speed, agility, and endurance in his wiry frame. While Hermione and Neville worked to bring up their stamina and balance, Harry's regimen focused more on building some strength to round out his abilities. Iruka was still worried about the boy's short stature and slight build, but was still trying to convince Harry to go to Madam Pomfrey for a full checkup.

Rather than working to improve his focus and memory as Neville was doing, or quieting an unending stream of thoughts like Hermione, his meditation training revolved around gaining better control over his emotions. It was a work in progress, and Iruka wished that he could get a professional therapist to give his student the help he really needed, but he knew that Harry wasn't ready to trust a strange adult so readily. Besides, Wizarding Britain had an unfortunate lack of mental health experts, and it would likely break a number of laws to bring a non-magical therapist to Hogwarts (he was under no illusions that he could get Harry off school grounds that often without drawing attention from the press, which would _not_ be good).

All in all, each of Iruka's students was making more than satisfactory progress.

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Albus was less satisfied by his progress in surveilling Professor Umino. After the portrait network had reported three students (including Harry Potter) regularly meeting with the Adjunct Professor in private, the Headmaster had quickly placed a well-hidden listening charm in the man's office where the meetings were held. He had listened to a long discussion with Neville Longbottom on a variety of innocuous but sometimes rather personal topics, combined with what sounded like a form of rudimentary Occlumency lesson, before concluding that the long duration and personal nature of such meetings left him with neither the time nor the inclination to constantly monitor them. Consequently, he transferred the output of the charm to his office's portrait of Dilys Derwent, who he trusted would relay any relevant or concerning observations to him. Her reports since them had been that the meetings contained no inappropriate behavior, but that the topics of discussion were often of such nature that she felt her Healer's Oaths compelled her to keep them in confidence. Knowing that his predecessor's character was beyond reproach, Albus allowed her to remain the monitor of the meetings in spite of his desire for more information.

The Headmaster's efforts were also frustrated with regards to the times when the visiting Seals teacher gathered with all three first-years. Oh, he knew where they went; the portrait of Phyllida Spore had described the Room of Requirement (one of the true hidden wonders of Hogwarts, and something he would have to show Filius and Minerva at some point). He had even, on a day when Professor Umino was away from the school, managed to open the version of the room used by the four via the simple method of asking for the same manifestation they visited. It was clearly a training or exercise area of some kind, a fact made clear by the two sets of shower/locker rooms by the entrance, but the arrangement of the room left Albus somewhat baffled as to the precise _nature_ of the exercises for which it was intended. His best guess was that they were related in some way to the man's extraordinary mobility. Irritatingly, it would seem that the 'requirements' used to generate that particular room included privacy, as the monitoring charms Albus had placed during his visit cut off abruptly at the group's next gathering. Attempting to observe the meetings in person seemed too risky at present, given how quickly the Adjunct Professor had detected Alastor at their first interview. At least his monitors outside the Room still worked, but all he could gather was that the trio left together, in a tired but satisfied mood he'd often seen among Quidditch players after practices.

Now the venerable wizard was left to ponder precisely what Iruka Umino's plans were. It put him somewhat at ease to confirm once more with Dilys that nothing she had overheard suggested anything suspicious, inappropriate, or nefarious, but still he worried. Professor Umino might be an unusually weak wizard, but should he turn hostile, his speed and agility would make him an elusive target in a duel. Were his students to gain similar abilities, they could prove quite formidable in the years to come, as all three were above average in their magical strength. Particularly concerning in such a scenario would be young Harry, marked as Tom Riddle's equal... Albus started in his chair. Could this training be Harry's prophesied power? While the Leader of the Light still felt that love would play that critical role, he could not afford to discount out of hand any possibility that presented itself.

Regardless, in spite of his slightly clandestine activities, Professor Umino's motives still appeared to be benevolent. Though Dilys still refused to divulge any details of the conversations she overheard, she expressed a strong approval for the foreign Professor, stating that she suspected these meetings would benefit the students greatly in time, though she also seemed to have become slightly less fond of Albus. He put this last down to having such demands put on her time and being required to eavesdrop on private conversations. Discussion with the children's other teachers indicated that all three had shown noticeable, if not dramatic, improvements in their schoolwork, and all three seemed to share a growing bond of friendship.

Once again, the Headmaster's confidence in Iruka Umino's character seemed to be growing alongside his list of questions about the man...

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 **A/N: I'll be posting chapters each Sunday this month, since it lets me drop in-story Christmas on Christmas Eve. Chances are, that'll be the last time events in-story line up with the real-world calendar. On the current posting schedule, summer hols will come up in April. Fair warning, next chapter's a touch short.  
**

 **Sorry to those that were hoping to see Snape sacked, but His Greasiness is going to be sticking around. He's too useful for Dumbles to toss him out without at least _trying_ to get him to behave. On the plus side, I hope it's now apparent that this Dumbledore is not Mr. Fanon "we have to constantly forgive everyone for everything and never punish them" - he much prefers the soft touch, but is willing to be strict when needed.**

 **To guest reviewer "Unifier": Iruka only reached out to the students he could clearly tell needed his help, which was limited to cases within his Sealing classes. Given the small sample size (and the fact that his students aren't anything like a representative sample) I don't consider it too implausible that only Harry and Neville had bad home lives. He hadn't intended to include Hermione, just talk to her (or have McG do so), but then she saw him using his ninja skills so he decided to add her to the group. I don't expect child abuse would be super-common among Purebloods, simply because most of them have so few children that they usually tend to treat them as the treasures they are; Darker families like the Blacks, Gaunts, Carrows, etc. are more likely, but at the same time their children are less likely to attend Iruka's classes. On top of that, I'm using the not-uncommon fanon of Snape looking out for abused Slytherin students (while being a total hypocrite and abusing students from the other Houses). I may, however, look back through and see if I can't add in a mention of Iruka trying to reach out to one or two other (older) students but getting turned away.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Wish Carefully" by Ten Toes - A one-shot (albeit a long one) from Lucius Malfoy's perspective, set after the Death Eaters got exactly what they thought they wanted. As the title implies, it didn't go quite the way they expected...  
**

 **Posted 10 December, 2017**


	20. 1-10: Interlude

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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"I've been thinking," Neville commented as they warmed up one Saturday afternoon in early December, "the way we meet regularly for the same activities, this is almost like a club or a small organization, right?"

"I guess," Harry responded, "what about it?"

"Well, it's just that all these other clubs and groups have names or the like. Maybe we should have something to call ourselves? 'You, Hermione, and me' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, and it could be referring to us as a group of friends rather than this." He waved an arm to indicate the training room. "We should come up with a name for our training group, something that describes it."

Iruka couldn't help but beam with pride. Back in October, Neville wouldn't have dared put forward an opinion or idea of his own without prompting. Already the seed had sprouted - all that remained was to protect and nurture it as it grew into the mighty tree he suspected it could become.

"The name should be truthful," Hermione stated. "I'd feel dirty every time I used it if it was a lie."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "but it shouldn't be anything suspicious or that would draw too much attention. Nothing that would tell too much about what we're doing."

Hermione pondered for a few moments. "How about 'Visitors and Outsiders to Magic, Investigating and Teaching'?"

Harry and Neville looked skeptical about the name, while Iruka thought it through more closely. "Er, Hermione," he said, "I'm afraid the initials for your idea spell something... less than nice?"

After a moment's thought, Hermione blushed bright red. "I withdraw my suggestion."

Several minutes of brainstorming followed, with occasional ideas thrown around for consideration. Finally, Neville hit upon an idea that everyone agreed was workable: 'Students of the Elemental Nations', or 'S.E.N.' - it was accurate, descriptive, unremarkable, and the acronym didn't sound rude in either English or Japanese.

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"Iruka-sensei?" Hermione began as the three first-years were enjoying one of their rest / cooldown periods. "Have you ever heard of someone named Nicholas Flamel?"

It was obvious that she was going for her usual tone of curiosity; unfortunately, Iruka was a trained ninja and Hermione was a terrible liar. Her attempt at subtlety also wasn't helped by the way Neville and Harry both stiffened slightly at her question.

"I can't say that I have," Iruka responded, "but then again there are a lot of prominent people in this world that I've never heard of. Why do you ask?"

Hermione hesitated, while Harry and Neville shared a look. Finally, Harry chimed in. "Hagrid mentioned him; he said whatever the three-headed giant dog is guarding in the third-floor corridor is the business of the Headmaster and Nicholas Flamel. Then he refused to explain any further."

Iruka sighed. "Do I even _want_ to know how you ended up in the dangerous, _forbidden_ corridor?"

"We got lost?"

After a Look (a specialized jutsu used by even civilian teachers), the chuunin was treated to a story of Draco Malfoy, a fake midnight duel, and Argus Filch. He couldn't help but note that this made Halloween the _second_ time Ronald Weasley's mouth engaging without his brain had inadvertently placed a student in mortal danger. Iruka could only hope that the boy would learn some maturity and self-control as he grew.

"I'm afraid that until now you actually knew more than I did about what was in that corridor. While I don't know about the rest of the staff, I at least was given only the same vague warnings you were. The giant dog at least explains why the Headmaster said that certain staff members have to be able to access the corridor - the dog would obviously need to be fed, watered, and cleaned up after. If it's standing on a trap door, then you're probably right about it guarding something or someone, though why such a setup is in a _school_ of all places makes no sense to me."

Harry's face took on a thoughtful expression. "When he took me to Diagon Alley, Hagrid said that there was no place more secure than Gringotts, except maybe for Hogwarts. While we were _in_ Gringotts, he stopped at a vault that seemed more heavily protected than mine but only had one thing in it - just some lumpy thing about the size of my fist, wrapped in brown paper. From what I saw in an old Prophet in Hagrid's hut, it sounds like that same vault was broken into later that day. Whatever Hagrid took out for Professor Dumbledore, someone wants it really badly, enough to break into Gringotts for it. The Headmaster must have known someone was after whatever it is, and had it moved to the one place he thought he could protect it better. We just can't figure out _what_ could be that small but worth that much, or _who_ could manage to get in and out of Gringotts without being caught or even spotted." At his last sentence, Hermione's face grew pensive.

Seeing the girl pondering set her teacher's mind running as well. She was likely drawing a connection between the topic of discussion and the staff member she already knew to have nefarious intentions. Iruka hadn't yet told Harry or Neville about Quirrell, and it looked like Hermione had kept the secret. His career as a ninja meant that Iruka was well-acquainted with secrets and need-to-know information; the question here was: Did Harry and Neville need to know? Sharing a secret made it harder to keep, especially when the subject of that secret clearly had an unhealthy interest in one of the recipients of the knowledge. On the other hand, it would make it easier to keep the boys from getting caught alone with the homicidal Defense Professor. Besides, forcing one of his students to keep a secret from the other two was not going to be healthy for their budding friendship. Weighing everything, he figured that Harry would be the only one Quirrell would pay any significant attention to, and the scarred boy's 'upbringing' had left him already well-practiced at hiding his true feelings, so the added risk of discovery would be relatively small. Conversely, the odds of a secret sundering the bonds forming between his students were much higher, and like any Konoha-nin, Iruka understood just how important such bonds were.

"I have my suspicions as far as the 'who'," the chuunin announced, noting Hermione's relief, "and you should probably be told as well, for safety reasons if nothing else, Harry's especially. You remember the broom malfunction at the Quidditch game?" Receiving three nods, he continued. "While I don't have any proof, I am certain that Professor Quirrell was the one responsible. Remember how I've been working to teach you three to detect and resist sakki?" Three more nods. "He started giving off a **lot** of it just before Harry's broom began to act up, and the broom settled the moment Hermione knocked him over on her way to her intended target. The Headmaster also suspects that Quirrell let the troll in on Halloween as a distraction. It seems pretty likely to me that he's after whatever that package was."

Now it was Neville's turn to wear a thoughtful frown. "But could he have actually gotten in and out of Gringotts like that? He doesn't seem particularly powerful, barely even casts spells to demonstrate in class, and he's so scared all the time..."

Iruka gave Neville a small proud smile for his analysis. "I suspect that the fear is an act. How better to avoid suspicion than to seem too meek and helpless to be the culprit? As far as capability, after the Quidditch game I did a bit of checking. While Quirinus Quirrell wasn't noted as being particularly powerful as a student, he did very well on his theoretical work; he's certainly very knowledgeable. Affecting Harry's broom like he did, especially such a brand new top-of-the-line broom, would have taken powerful dark magic. So, while he may still not be that great with a wand, he's clearly got at least a few tricks up his sleeve. One should never underestimate an enemy - it tends to lead to some very nasty surprises." He proceeded to run through the same set of warnings he'd given Hermione after the Quidditch match.

"Anyway," he said once his students had been properly cautioned, "I'll see what I can find about this Flamel. Knowing who he is might tell us what the package is, and knowing that might give us a clearer idea of why Quirrell wants it and what lengths he's likely to be willing to go to for it. The more you know about your enemy, the easier it is to predict their actions, and thus the easier they are to beat."

Hermione's expression had once again returned to what Iruka was beginning to call her 'thinking face' - furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and a slight frown while worrying her bottom lip. "Iruka-sensei," she asked hesitantly, "were you... _are_ you... a soldier?"

As a trained shinobi, Iruka deliberately did _not_ freeze at the girl's question. "And what led you to such a conclusion?" he hedged.

"Well..." she began, "it's just that you've been referring to Professor Quirrell as an 'enemy', and that got me thinking, and I thought about the way you talk about other things, and the kinds of training you've been giving us, and the things you can do and what they might be used for, plus those clothes you're wearing look like some sort of uniform, and your vest is really stiff and I think it might be armored, and you talk so much about wars and heroes from your world but not much about people that don't fight which means fighting must be important to you, and it all made me think you might be some kind of soldier, or maybe a special policeman." How in the Sage's name did Hermione's tiny twelve-year-old frame fit lungs big enough to get that all out in one breath?

After a slightly exaggerated sigh of defeat, Iruka favored the bushy-haired girl with a proud smile. "You're pretty close. I am a _shinobi_ , a ninja. We mostly serve as peacekeepers or elite law enforcement these days, but before the Great Peace we were also called on as our countries' main military forces. I'd rather not go into too many details on what that involved. The three of you are civilians, and even if you _were_ training as full shinobi, your education would have only touched lightly on the uglier aspects of the work by this age." Noting the confusion building towards shock on especially the faces of Harry and Hermione, he spoke quickly. "Ninja training _has_ to start at a very early age to fully prepare the body, basically shaping the way it grows and develops. That's part of why I've said that you'll probably never reach my level of ability at some of these things, because I spent much of my childhood training my body and my chakra. You'll certainly be able to go farther than someone who tries to start training as an adult."

"Regardless," he continued, "now that you three know a bit about what kind of work I did and trained others for, I won't have to censor my stories quite as much. I'll still be holding some things back: Some of it is classified, some of it is not fit for young ears, and some of it is just plain private. Now," he smiled with a touch of mischief in his eyes, "since you all appear nice and rested, how about a nice long run? While we do our laps, I can tell you about one of the best crops of students I ever taught - students that would one day change the world."

"The question is: Where do I begin? Hmm... how about this?"

"Once upon a time, there lived a fox spirit with nine tails..."

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 **A/N: I just** _ **had**_ **to end with that. For those that aren't certain, that last line is the very first line in the official American release of the Naruto manga.**

 **Also, Hermione really shouldn't be allowed to name things. Like, ever.**

 **Anyway, sorry for the short chapter; I ended it at the best break-point I could find, which left it fairly brief. My plan _had_ been to post both this and the next chapter together, but then I noticed that posting every Sunday in December would line next chapter (which includes Christmas hols) up with the holiday pretty well. Thus, in addition to the bonus chapter last week, you'll be getting another one next week.**

 **The last two chapters have been huge for reviews, which in hindsight I probably should have guessed given that they dealt with such a polarizing character as Snape. As far as he goes, I don't have any particular plans to have him become more involved with Iruka and company, whether as a friend or an enemy, so unless the plot surprises me in how it develops he'll be more of a background character.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Common Sense" by Stone Elbow - a humorous (occasionally leaning towards crack) story where Naruto is much trickier than canon. Some shades of the classic "A Drop of Poison" at times, but still very much its own tale.**

 **Posted 17 December 2017**


	21. 1-11: Reflection

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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A discreet inquiry to Pandora and Xeno led Iruka to the identity of Nicholas Flamel, famed alchemist. He was known for his work on discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood (a project in which Headmaster Dumbledore shared the credit), but more tellingly for being the oldest wizard alive thanks to his creation of a Philosopher's Stone, a previously-mythical alchemical product that could permanently transmute base metals into gold and produce an elixir that could vastly extend the drinker's life. Such an artifact could plausibly fit the description of the mysterious package Harry saw Hagrid retrieving from Gringotts, and could easily be classed as one of the most valuable items in the world. Near-unlimited wealth and lifespan would tempt almost anybody, and plenty of people would be willing to go to extreme lengths to get their hands on something like the Stone.

With such a tantalizing prize, there was no chance of Quirrell giving up on his attempts to get hold of it. It was more likely that those attempts would get increasingly brazen as Quirrell became more desperate; that desperation would also increase the threat he posed to the children. Iruka began making plans for what to do in the event that the Defense Professor moved openly and took one or more students hostage to demand the Stone.

There were still too many variables in play to reasonably predict more than the broadest strokes of the man's actions. The biggest remaining unknown was the 'why': Why exactly did Quirinus Quirrell want the Stone? If it was just for wealth, he'd be much less likely to act openly or rashly, but if he or someone he cared for was dying and needed the Elixir of Life, he'd probably get a lot more desperate as the very literal deadline got closer.

Back home, the chuunin would have gone to his superiors to talk about anticipating Quirrell's possible courses of action and preparing contingency plans to deal with them. Here, the only person he knew about that he could ask was Professor Dumbledore, and he didn't think that discussion would go well: Iruka didn't have any information that the Headmaster didn't already have; all he did have were questions, unsolicited advice, and more information than he was probably supposed to know. It would hardly be surprising if Dumbledore was still too suspicious of him to answer his questions - Iruka certainly would be if their positions were reversed - and the Headmaster had a spotty record at best when it came to listening to suggestions. Overall, approaching Professor Dumbledore over this matter now was likely pointless, and probably wouldn't exactly build trust between the two men. That just left continuing on his previous heading: Watch, wait, plan, and prepare.

In the meantime, he'd inform his students about who Flamel was, and what the package likely was, but caution them again about the need to keep things secret, and not speak about anything to do with Quirrell or the Stone outside their training room.

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Midway through December winter arrived with gusto, coating the castle and grounds with a thick blanket of snow. Even dressed in his warmest clothes, Iruka was glad that his fire affinity made it easier for him to keep his extremities warm. Given the mild climate in Hi no Kuni, the winters in Britain were quite a change for the chuunin, and he made sure to take advantage of the snow for both learning and fun: A variant of standard wall-walking allowed him to walk across the top of the snow leaving little to nothing for prints; he made sure to only practice this in the glen in Devon, for secrecy's sake. At play with Luna, Iruka built a snowman and went sledding down the hill on which the Rook sat; back at Hogwarts, he joined the Weasley twins and a number of other students in building snow forts and engaging in snowball fights (decades of training in projectile throwing meant that Iruka quickly became a coveted teammate). The chuunin teacher couldn't help but think of the wonderful training exercises he could make from snowball fights.

The local holiday was once again spent at the Rook, where Iruka found that the Lovegoods and a number of his colleagues at Hogwarts had quietly conspired to pool their money and gift him with a Nimbus Two-Thousand, one of the top British-made racing brooms. Clearly his enjoyment of flying had become common knowledge. That wasn't really surprising though, given the fact that he tended to join in with some of the students' recreational free-flying sessions and the occasional pickup Quidditch game (he tended to restrain his physical abilities during these, though the school broomsticks he flew were often a major handicap on their own).

After lunch on December 27th, Iruka was surprised by a knock at the door of his quarters. Harry was there, but rather than the expected glow of a child on holiday at a magical school, his expression was distracted, pensive, almost a bit haunted. Figuring that something significant had disturbed his student, Iruka invited the boy in.

"So," he began once the two of them were settled with cups of tea, "what brings you to my door?" Harry seemed hesitant, conflicted. "Something happened while I was away, didn't it?"

That seemed to break through Harry's reluctance. "It started at Christmas: Someone gave me an Invisibility Cloak that used to belong to my dad. I tried it out that night, snuck out after curfew; I just wanted to explore a bit. In an old abandoned classroom, there was this really fancy mirror with strange words on the frame, and when I looked at my reflection in it, I was surrounded by family. My parents were standing behind me, smiling at me. They were proud! It was... it was just so amazing to see them like that, almost like they were alive again. Ron was kinda jealous about the cloak, though - they're really rare and expensive, he said. I've told you how things have been a bit tense between us, so I figured maybe sharing it with him, going out together, showing him my parents, maybe it could help patch things up some? So last night, we both snuck out under the cloak, and I showed him the mirror, but he didn't see my parents, or his family - he saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, with the House Cup and the Quidditch cup too. He didn't want to stop looking at it, but I wanted to see my family some more, and we sort of argued a bit and almost got caught by Mrs. Norris and Filch. Now today he's telling me to not go back, that he's got a bad feeling about it, but it's my _family_." His voice was plaintive, almost a desperate whine. "I'd never even seen their faces before, and this might be the only chance I ever get to see them. I thought, maybe if you look at the mirror, you'll understand what I'm talking about, or maybe Ron's right and you'll be able to tell me that. I'm just so confused..."

Once his student had trailed off, Iruka took a few moments to fully process his tale before speaking. "Well, let's start at the beginning. Can you tell me what the first mistake you made was?" Harry's only response was a look of puzzlement. "You said 'someone' sent you this cloak. I take it that there was no indication of who sent it?" Harry shook his head. "So you opened a gift package from an unknown sender, and then proceeded to use the gift inside, without having a trusted adult check it over. You do recall your first Quidditch game, yes? Professor Quirrell has already made one attempt on your life. You had no way of knowing if that cloak was truly an heirloom from your father, or whether it was a piece of cloth that had been cursed to hurt you or kill you. Even if you're not showing any obvious ill effects from it, we will still be taking it to the Headmaster to have him check it over for safety." At this point, the boy in front of him was looking more than a bit sheepish at how careless he had been, likely caught up in the combined enthusiasm of what were likely his first real Christmas presents and an apparent connection to his parents. Iruka adopted a reassuring smile before continuing. "In any case, I think we should also have a look at this mirror. Care to show me the way?"

A few minutes later the two stepped into what indeed appeared to be an abandoned classroom. The typical classroom furniture was largely pushed to and/or piled along the walls of the room, but Iruka's eyes were immediately drawn to the mirror propped against one wall: It was tall, at least two and a half meters, with the top of its ornate gilded frame nearly brushing the ceiling while a pair of clawed feet rested on the floor. Across the arched top of the otherwise-rectangular frame were carved the words " _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._ " Even if the letters were the same as used in local writing, the words themselves didn't match any language Iruka had seen.

Harry moved to step towards the mirror, but Iruka placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him and drawing a look of question. Shaking his head, the chuunin drew his wand, casting what few scanning and detection charms he knew towards the mirror, checking for magical traps. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised or unsurprised that the results were all negative. Releasing Harry, he accompanied the boy to stand in front of the mirror. As they stood there together, all Iruka could see in the mirror was an accurate reflection, including his student's frown of disappointment. "If different people see different things in the mirror, maybe it only activates when there's only one person in front of it?" he suggested. His frown deepening, Harry nodded and reluctantly took a couple of steps to the side.

The moment Harry was out of the reflection Iruka could see, the view changed. He could still see himself, but dressed in his uniform rather than robes. The greater change, however, was the background: It was still a classroom, true, but not an abandoned classroom at Hogwarts - it was _his_ classroom, where he'd taught young genin-in-training for so many years, and it was filled not only with the crop of students he'd been working with at his accident (including a rather sheepish-looking Boruto), but also a sprinkling of British youths like Harry and Luna, all dressed like their Konoha-born peers.

After a few moments of basking in the warm contentment of the view, Iruka forced himself back to reality, throwing in a genjutsu-release for good measure. Based on what Harry had described himself and Ronald Weasley as seeing, it would seem that this mirror somehow reflected not reality, but the viewer's wishes and desires.

Reflected desire! Looking back at the inscription across the frame, Iruka read the letters backwards, stumbling a bit at the strange word breaks. " _'I show not your face but your heart's desire.'_ , it says." Harry blinked in confusion. "Look at the inscription - it's backwards, almost like it's 'mirrored' - this mirror shows us exactly what we most want. For me, that's being back home with my friends and students, _all_ my students;" he added with a pointed look at Harry, causing the boy's suddenly downbeat expression to brighten, "for Ronald, that's matching or surpassing his brothers' achievements; for you, it's being together with the family you've been denied. I suppose it could be useful for motivation or self-discovery, but it's also seriously dangerous. Consider someone like yourself, whose wish is unattainable but powerfully compelling. You could come back here again and again, gazing at the image of happiness, and gradually lose any care for what's going on in the real world, missing classes and Quidditch practice, neglecting your friends and grades, missing sleep and meals, just wasting away. On top of that, even never coming back to it, some people could be seriously hurt emotionally from being teased with a vision of unreachable happiness. Come on, let's go talk to the Headmaster; we'll ask him about your cloak and warn him about this mirror." The two left the room, with Harry still shooting longing glances back at the mirror until Iruka closed and locked the door behind them.

After a stop at the Gryffindor dorms to pick up Harry's cloak and the note that came with it (the wrappings having already been disposed of by the house-elves), teacher and student made their way to the Headmaster's office.

As usual, the call of "Come in!" came just before Iruka's knock. Headmaster Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, apparently in the midst of some paperwork, and smiled warmly at Iruka before his gaze flashed to the first-year beside him that was looking around the office in wide-eyed fascination. "Professor Umino, Mister Potter, what brings you here today? Not getting up to _too_ much mischief, I hope?" His eyes twinkled with merriment.

"A couple of issues, actually, Headmaster," Iruka replied. "First, Mister Potter received an anonymous gift at Christmas. Normally this wouldn't be much concern, but given the incident during that Quidditch match, I'd feel better if you could confirm that the gift is benign."

The Headmaster looked startled. "Would the gift in question happen to be a cloak?" At his guests' nods, he continued. "The Potter Family has long owned that particular invisibility cloak, and James loaned it to me shortly after they went into hiding so that I might study how its magic has so outlasted the typical lifespan of such items. In hindsight, I can see how under the circumstances I should have used a somewhat less suspicious method of returning it. Now, you mentioned two issues?"

"Yes, sir. Mister Potter found a dangerous magical artifact unsecured in a student-accessible room, and brought it to my attention. It is a large mirror that shows an image of something the viewer strongly desires-"

A raised hand from Professor Dumbledore halted Iruka. "Again, it would appear that I am the answer to your conundrum. I had placed the mirror in its current location as a temporary measure while preparing a new home for it. Those preparations should be complete some time tomorrow morning, at which point I will be moving the mirror to a more secure location. I implore you both to not seek the mirror out, no matter what you may have seen in it. It gives neither knowledge nor truth, and men have wasted away before it or been driven mad longing for what they have seen. You were correct in surmising that the Mirror of Erised is dangerous, and I must confess that in hindsight I realize that I should have secured the room containing it through more than mere obscurity; at the time, I had assumed that with the castle mostly empty, the chances of anyone stumbling upon it in the few days it would be there would be minimal. A lesson for me, perhaps, and a lesson for the two of you also, as you would now both be better-prepared should you encounter the Mirror or its like in the future. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. In any case, Professor, I presume that you have already secured the room in which the Mirror is currently kept?" Iruka nodded. "Thank you, and I applaud your caution and prudence in both of the matters that brought you here. Now, I hate to be a poor host, but this school generates a bafflingly prodigious amount of parchmentwork, much of which requires my review, and I am afraid I must return to it. Please, enjoy the rest of your holidays."

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Back in Iruka's office, teacher and student sat down with tea, something that had become comfortable and familiar to both. For well over a minute, the thoughtful silence was broken only by the faint sounds of sipping. Finally, the teacher spoke.

"We should probably get the simpler matter out of the way first," Iruka began. "I can't really blame you for your lack of caution with the cloak; orphans like us, we grab any connection we can find to our families, and we never willingly let go. Throw in the excitement of the holiday, the cloak being mixed in with other gifts," he chose not to bring up Harry's young age, "and the fact that you don't really have much training or experience in caution and suspicion - I'd be more surprised if you _hadn't_ opened it immediately. Maybe we can go over security protocols for unknown packages at the next group lesson. Until then, if you get any more anonymous packages, or packages where you can't be confident that they were actually sent by who they claim to be from, just remember that there's a dangerous person on the loose that has attacked you once already."

"Now, to the... erumpent in the room." The chuunin teacher had to remember to use the local expression rather than a biju. "You understand that you can't, and more importantly _shouldn't_ , go looking for that mirror again?"

"I get that, I guess. It's just... it's the only place I've ever seen my family. Other than knowing my dad looked like me and my mum had eyes like mine, I didn't even know what they really looked like. People barely even talk about either of them; they say my dad was on the Quidditch team and my mum was brilliant, but nobody talks about what they were like as _people_." Once Harry began his words came as a flood.

"My parents have been dead for three decades," Iruka began solemnly, "and I still miss my father's proud smiles, my mother's warm hugs, their words of love and encouragement... I can imagine at least some of what you must have felt, looking into that mirror, but what you have to remember is that it _wasn't real_. It was an illusion, a _lie_ , designed to show you whatever you most wanted. Even a photograph would be more real - at least then it'd be a recording of a moment that actually happened. Remember that whenever you find yourself tempted to look for the mirror again."

"For now," the chuunin continued, "I'll speak and write to some people, and see if we can't get you some _real_ pictures of your family. While I'm at it, I'll ask those that knew your parents if they can either talk or write to you about them, maybe share some old stories. You deserve more than a few vague comments, and better than the poisonous lies some have told you."

With the pressing business out of the way, discussion moved on to happier topics, like what the two wizards had done over their holidays. Iruka also ended up sharing stories of his own parents for the first time in over ten years.

* * *

 **A/N: Merry Christmas, to those that celebrate it, and/or Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, and the various other celebrations around this time. This is another breather-ish chapter, but things will start picking up soon enough - Quirrelmort's attempt on the stone is only three chapters away at this point.  
**

 **A guest reviewer asked about Ron, and where I plan to take him as this fic develops. Unfortunately for Ron fans, I simply couldn't find a plausible way for him to play a large role in this story, at least as far as I've written. Believe me, I tried, but can you honestly say that he'd want to take extra lessons outside of class? Even in Book 2, where I was originally intending to bring him in, events just didn't make sense if I tried to shoehorn him into the climax (which was actually the first part of this entire story that I wrote, funnily enough, but the changed circumstances caused me to edit certain parts of it).**

 **Fic Recommendation: "In The Box" by Dyce - a hilariously fun Firefly oneshot, very character-focused.**

 **Posted 24 December 2017**


	22. 1-12: Dragon

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

The winter break ended, the students returned, and lessons (of various kinds) resumed. Iruka warned Hermione and Neville about the Mirror of Erised, though neither he nor Harry mentioned what it had shown them. They also explained about Harry's new cloak, which at Iruka's urging he kept with him at all times; invisibility is a good way to get away from a hostile situation, after all, and the cloak did nobody any good sitting at the bottom of Harry's trunk.

Minerva had favored Iruka with a wistful smile when he asked after photos and stories of James and Lily Potter. Between the two of them, they spoke to the other current staff of Hogwarts (minus Filch) that had been there long enough to have seen James and Lily as students, and sent out quite a few owls to former professors and schoolmates. So far, there had only been a trickle of responses, though Hagrid had begun inviting Harry and his friends over much more often to tell tales of the Potters and Longbottoms during their Hogwarts years. Filius and the Headmaster had both stated their desire to help, but needed more time to put their contributions together.

Harry's only other prompt response had been from Professor Emeritus Horace Slughorn, who had taught Potions prior to Professor Snape, and had Lily Evans as part of his so-called 'Slug Club' - a school club he led composed of students he saw as having exceptional potential or influence (according to Minerva, 'Sluggy' liked to act as an influence broker, connecting people in exchange for gifts and favors). Those photos sent by the former Potions Professor were all from past Slug Club meetings and events, and all included at least Slughorn himself as well as a young Lily. Iruka noted that the man's letter was also careful to point out the other important people pictured in each photograph, a reminder of the connections available through him. He advised Harry to stay in contact with Slughorn, but avoid promising anything without running it by an adult first; having a good relationship with someone that well-connected could be useful, while a bad relationship could cause a lot of trouble. As a side effect of that contact, Slughorn had begun writing to Iruka as well, clearly interested in connecting with a person of note (and thus potential importance).

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It was mid-January, and S.E.N. were going through their usual group lessons in the Come-and-Go Room. "As Hermione figured out a few weeks ago," Iruka spoke, "much of what I'm teaching you is combat-related, even if it can be used for other things as well. Arguably more important than _how_ to fight, though, is _when_ to fight, much of which boils down to _why_. People fight for a lot of different reasons - money, love, power, honor, redemption, hate, and more - they all motivate people to fight. If you even consider fighting, make sure you know _why_ you're going to fight, since that tells you what your goal should be, and what is or isn't worth doing to reach it. For example, in a battle to capture a city, you could certainly kill a lot of enemy soldiers by burning the city to the ground, but you'd have destroyed the very thing you were fighting to gain, so it wouldn't really be much of a victory, would it? There's an old proverb, 'Sacrificing an empire to win a battle is no victory; ending a battle to save an empire is no defeat.' You win a fight, a battle, or a war by achieving whatever goal you were fighting to reach, so having and clearly remembering your goal is vital."

All three children seemed to ponder his words for the better part of a minute, before Hermione spoke up. "Why do _you_ fight, Sensei?"

Talk about your loaded questions... The stock Academy lecture on duty and loyalty to the village wasn't exactly applicable here. Iruka took a few moments to gather his thoughts before responding. "In Konoha, we have a philosophy we call the Will of Fire. There's no single way of describing it, since each person interprets it in their own way, but at its core it's about bonds. It treats the entire village like one big family, all caring for and protecting each other. The Third Hokage felt that this was why our ninja could push themselves to extraordinary lengths. As the Seventh puts it, it's when protecting someone precious to you that you can be truly strong; the Sixth's favorite saying is 'Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash.' Ever since our village was founded, Konoha has looked for its shinobi to care for each other and for the village, and to fight to protect those they care about."

He could see Hermione listening with rapt attention, always absorbing knowledge like a sponge. The boys, though they were still listening, were clearly distracted. Both were likely remembering the fact that their parents had fallen after fighting against Voldemort and his followers for years. In the wake of the Mirror of Erised, Harry had described a recurring nightmare that Iruka suspected might be built at least partly of fragments of memory of Voldemort's attack. Both he and Neville were likely using this discussion to better understand what led their families down that path.

"When you're fighting for yourself, for personal gain, there's only so far you'll be willing to go. If things get to difficult or too painful, you'll give up or look for another way. Fighting for someone precious to you, though..." Memories of the Kyuubi's attack on the village, of Naruto's unorthodox graduation, of Pain's assault flashed through his mind. "Even when you're so tired you're about to drop, when you're so scared you want to cry, when you're so hurt you can barely stand, when you know you're completely outmatched and have no chance - if you're protecting someone or something truly precious to you, you'll keep fighting with everything you have, no matter what."

The quartet's exercises continued in silence for a while after that, all four deep in their own thoughts.

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A couple of weeks later, Iruka heard of an incident in which Draco Malfoy had cursed Neville in the hallways, locking his legs together. Madam Pince had thankfully had no trouble applying the countercurse when the young Gryffindor hopped his way into her domain, and the incident had been reported to Minerva. Unfortunately, with no witnesses, it was Neville's word against those of Malfoy and his two bodyguards, so no official action could be taken, but both Iruka and Minerva had begun keeping a discreet eye on the pale Slytherin to watch for similar behavior, and he had apparently already lost several House Points for messing around in Transfiguration class. Though Professor Snape had objected, Minerva's sterling reputation for being stern but fair combined with Malfoy's reputation for misbehavior to leave him with little ground to stand on.

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The next real bit of insanity came at the beginning of April, as a familiar trio of first-years knocked urgently on Iruka's door.

"Hagrid's got a dragon egg in his hut!"

Iruka blinked. "I'm sorry, but I could swear I just heard you say that Hagrid has a _dragon's egg_..."

Harry nodded. "He says he won it off somebody in a card game, and now he's trying to hatch it in his hut."

"His _wooden_ hut?" If he'd been wearing his hitai-ate, Iruka's eyebrows would be hidden by this point.

A round of nods. "Hagrid could get in a lot of trouble if anybody finds out, and that's assuming the dragon doesn't hurt anybody or cause any damage." Hermione was in full rules-lecture mode. "The Headmaster would probably be forced to sack him, and he might even end up arrested!"

Given the gamekeeper's obvious non-human heritage, Iruka would put money on arrest, conviction, and a harsh sentence. Even free, Hagrid would undoubtedly struggle, as he had no wand-use rights and had lived at Hogwarts his entire adult life. With a stained reputation and limited skills, job prospects would be slim for the large, kind man.

Several minutes of not-obviously-hurried walking later, Iruka stood in Hagrid's hut, which was currently trying to imitate a sauna, with three students behind him that would have been much more winded a few months earlier. He could clearly spot the large, black egg in the middle of the blazing hearth; he supposed that a species that breathed flames must incubate its eggs a bit hotter than other reptiles. "Hagrid," he asked the giddy gamekeeper, "where, _how_ did you get that?"

"Down at the Hog's Head, won it at cards a couple nights back. Always wanted a dragon, for years an' years, now I'll be hatchin' one here in my own hut!"

Iruka took a deep breath before continuing; this was going to be one of _those_ conversations. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't dragons breathe fire?"

"Yep, should be quite a sight, eh?"

"You do recall that wood is flammable? Wood including the wooden hut we're standing in?"

Hagrid paused. "Er... Well y'see..."

"I also seem to remember reading that dragons can grow to be several stories tall, and that hatchlings grow very quickly, which begs the question of how long you'd be able to hide this _illegal_ , _fire-breathing_ creature in a _wooden_ building that it will rapidly outgrow?"

There was something mildly disturbing about seeing a middle-aged man well over three meters tall acting like a child caught sneaking sweets. "I didn't think o' that... But what can I do with it now? It'll die 'less somebody takes care of it!"

Iruka wracked his brain for every bit of information he knew about dragons, which unfortunately wasn't much, but something struck him. "Charlie Weasley - I remember hearing he'd gotten a job at a dragon reserve in Romania. We could probably see about sending the egg or the hatchling there or to another reserve, we just need to make sure it's all kept quiet." He thought further. "Here's the story - you won that dragon egg off whoever it was because you knew it belonged in a reserve, and you're taking care of it here until arrangements can be made to get it somewhere it will be safe and legal. We should all be thankful such an _honest_ , _upstanding_ citizen got hold of it - who knows what could have happened if someone less decent had ended up with something so dangerous? I'll go speak with the Headmaster - he should be able to make arrangements to have the egg transferred and make sure there's no trouble over this."

Hagrid beamed at him. "That's awful nice of yeh, Iruka, and a good idea too. Dumbledore'll make sure it's all nice an' legal, and this little one can be with its own kind." He smiled wistfully down at the egg. "Jus' wish I coulda' seen it hatchin', maybe taken care of it for a while, but sooner's better."

After calling Flippy to deliver a quick and discreet message asking the Headmaster to visit Hagrid's hut as soon as he could, Iruka turned back to his host. "So, what kind of person walks around carrying a dragon's egg?"

"Didn't get a good look at the bloke, ter be honest." Hagrid seemed to be thinking hard. "Kept 'is cloak on the whole time, an' the hood up too. Not that unusual at the Hog's Head, ter be honest - yeh get all kinds in there, interesting crowd some nights."

Iruka's alarm bells were now ringing _loudly_ : A mysterious, anonymous stranger just so happens to carry the highly illegal item that would most interest Hagrid into the pub where the friendly (if rather naive) gamekeeper is drinking, and puts it up as a wager over cards? The odds of this being an innocent (or as innocent as dragon smuggling can be) coincidence were so vanishingly small as to be readily ignored. "So, did you just play cards, or did you talk?"

As Hagrid's tale of drinking and discussion followed, the chuunin couldn't help but wince inwardly at how easily the large man had been manipulated into divulging the key to bypassing his protection on the Stone. Then he winced outwardly when he realized that his three students had also heard about the large dog's susceptibility to music. He'd have to remind them to be careful later.

Around this time a polite knocking sounded at the door, and Hagrid soon welcomed Headmaster Dumbledore into his sweltering and increasingly-crowded hut. He showed surprise at the heat, before his eyes locked on the roaring fire and widened slightly at the sight of the egg. "Ah," he addressed Iruka, "I see why you called me here so urgently. Dare I ask, Hagrid, how you came to be in possession of a Norwegian Ridgeback egg?"

The gamekeeper's guests were again treated to a recounting of a night of mead, cards, and talk. Dumbledore asked several more detailed questions, skillfully probing to determine as much as he could about the mysterious stranger and how much information had been leaked. Unfortunately, there simply wasn't much to learn that Iruka didn't already know. As the friendly interrogation wound down, the chuunin described the idea he'd had regarding sending the egg to a reserve and the explanation they could give as to why Hagrid had it in the first place.

The Headmaster smiled proudly at Iruka. "A splendid idea! The explanation you suggest is particularly clever since it is in fact essentially true, even if it requires a certain... _creative_ interpretation of some details. I shall owl my contacts and begin making the necessary arrangements and preparations. In the meantime Hagrid, once certain legalities have been covered, would you object to Professor Kettleburn stopping by to examine the egg? Should time and circumstances permit, perhaps he might even be able to show it to his N.E.W.T.-level Care of Magical Creatures classes?"

Once Professor Dumbledore had received Hagrid's agreement and gratitude, the five guests left for the castle, collectively sighing in relief as they stepped out into the far more comfortable air outside. The Headmaster performed a few quick freshening charms on everyone, to tide them over until they could more properly bathe and change into fresh robes. "I must say, Professor Umino, that you handled that quite well; I take it that these three were the ones to alert you to Hagrid's acquisition?" Iruka nodded. "Well then, each of you take five points for your responsibility and discretion. I should hope that I don't need to ask you all to remain quiet regarding this matter?" All three gave affirming nods. "Excellent. I must also remind you that, even with the information you've overheard today, you should still steer clear of the forbidden corridor. Don't look so surprised - I could tell by your expressions earlier that you are somehow already familiar with Fluffy. I cannot stress enough that that corridor is forbidden, and contains dangers beyond a rather large guard dog. You would all do well to stay well away from it." This time, the nods were distinctly enthusiastic. "Splendid! Then we shall speak on this no more. So tell me, how are you three enjoying your first year here at Hogwarts?"

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Within a few days the egg had been picked up by a pair of dragon handlers, its eventual destination a Norwegian dragon reserve where the hatchling could live in its natural habitat and among its own species. Hagrid's eyes were suspiciously moist as he gently placed the egg into the handlers' heated carrying case.

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Iruka stared despondently at the paper in front of him. He'd conferred with Pandora and with his colleagues at Hogwarts, checked and rechecked his arithmentic calculations, and tried every variation and permutation he could think of. It all led to the same result, a result he had spent the past week and a half trying to deny, but now he had to face facts. As Shinobi Maxim #79 stated: 'Deceiving your enemy is often an effective strategy; deceiving your ally is sometimes an unfortunate necessity; deceiving yourself is never a good idea.'

Pandora's concept was workable. If there was any good news, it was that their work had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were on their way to developing a new method of magical fast-transit. Unfortunately, they had also conclusively proven that this method required properly constructed and charged rune circles at both ends. Unless someone back in Konoha somehow managed to craft the exactly correct destination array and charge it with magic, he currently had no means of returning home.

It was ironic in a way, he reflected, that now both his and Harry's visions in the Mirror of Erised were of an impossible dream. Thinking of Harry, though, reminded Iruka of the students he had here in Britain, the friends he had made, and the life he was slowly building for himself. If he couldn't return home, he decided, then he would have to _make_ a home here. Pulling out a quill, inkwell, and parchment, he began drafting a letter to Headmaster Dumbledore to express his interest in making his position at Hogwarts a longer-term one.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, Sluggy wants to add Iruka as one of his contacts; he's the one bringing a new, previously-unknown magical technique after all. And yes, ninjas share a proverb with Klingons. The Shinobi Maxim is my own addition to The Seventy Maxims of Maximally-Effective Mercenaries by Howard Taylor (author of the webcomic Schlock Mercenary, which is easily one of the best hard-sci-fi space operas I've ever read).  
**

 **Also, Happy New Year!**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Make a Wish" by Rorschach's Blot - It's long and somewhat cracky, but a fun ride; starts out as 'Harry has things go crazy well' and grows into something more.  
**

 **Published 31 December 2017**


	23. 1-13: Unicorn

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Underlined text taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, by J.K. Rowling**

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Iruka was just leaving dinner one evening when he overheard Hagrid speaking with Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Another one? Are you certain, Hagrid?"

"Saw the fresh blood before I came in fer dinner, Headmaster. I'm gonna see if I can track it down tonight, help it if I can. Don't suppose there's anybody as could give me a hand?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Regrettably, I can't think of anyone on staff that could be spared, and there are no unassigned detentions at present that could be used to give you student helpers."

At this point Iruka butted in. "Excuse me, Hagrid, did I hear you say you needed help with something?"

"Evenin' Professor; sommat's been attacking the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. I found one last Wednesday, dead, and tonight it looks like another's been hurt. Like I was tellin' the Headmaster, was hopin' I could find it an' help it, maybe even figure out what's doin' this. I figure it'll go faster if there's more'n one pair of eyes lookin'."

"Something's attacking _unicorns_?" Iruka was shocked. "Not only evil enough to hunt them, but fast enough to actually catch them? What could be doing such a thing?"

Hagrid and Dumbledore both frowned. "Alas," the Headmaster replied, "neither of us have any solid ideas in that regard. All we can do at present is investigate, and hope that we can help the poor creature that's been hurt. I don't suppose you might be free this evening?"

"I'd be happy to help, Headmaster. Hagrid, I'll come down to your hut as soon as I've changed into something a bit better suited to the woods." Iruka gestured down at his teaching robes.

"Smart thinkin' - robes'd be a nightmare in the forest, tanglin' up an' catchin' on everythin'. I'll see yeh in a bit, then."

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It was surprising how odd it felt to Iruka to be walking openly in his full uniform. Then again, he mused, it had been nearly fifteen years since his last field assignment, so knowingly walking out for what would have easily qualified as at least a C- or B-rank mission back home did feel a bit odd. He did feel a bit tense, not knowing if he might encounter the mysterious predator, nor how dangerous it might be. On the plus side, it was reassuring that he'd stepped up his training after the Quidditch incident; knowing that he might be called upon to protect his students again, he would need to be at the top of his game. He wouldn't be up to fighting a jounin any time soon, but he was still in the best shape he'd been in for at least a decade.

Hagrid approached, carrying a lantern in one hand and a large crossbow in the other, with a quiver full of bolts at his left hip and his dog Fang at his heels. "This way, Professor. Saw the blood earlier, near the edge of the Forest."

As the large gamekeeper led Iruka towards the trees, the chuunin saw silvery drops glistening on the forest floor. "There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least. We're gonna have ter split up; Fang can go with yeh if yeh want help."

"That's all right, Hagrid; the name of my home, Konohagakure, translates as 'Village Hidden in the Leaves' - it's in the middle of a large, dense forest. I've been handling myself in the woods since I was little."

"Righ' then, I'll head off this way, you follow the trail over that way. Send up red sparks if yeh get in trouble, green if yeh find the unicorn." Hagrid looked a bit sheepish. "If I happen ter do either m'self, I'd be thankful if yeh didn't mention it ter anyone."

Iruka nodded, and the two set off into the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid's lantern quickly vanishing among the dense trees. After a few moments to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, the Leaf ninja continued in. The trees were shorter and closer together than in the forests around Konoha, with more undergrowth and a denser canopy that left the forest dark enough that only someone accustomed to working in such conditions (or trained for it) would be able to function without light. Overall, the forest gave off a somewhat ominous, forbidding vibe, but nothing too bad to someone who'd dealt with Training Ground 44. It did keep Iruka on edge, though, especially given how little he heard of the expected noises of a nighttime forest.

The silence was broken after a time by the sound of approaching hoofbeats, though whatever was coming was remarkably quiet for what sounded like a heavy draft horse. While what emerged from the brush was partly horse, the human-like torso where the horse's neck would normally be marked him as a centaur. He carried a bow, with a quiver of arrows hung from his shoulder, and had pale blond hair and eyes of a bright enough blue to be visible even in the forest gloom. The centaur eyed Iruka with an appraising gaze, clearly trying to take his measure.

Iruka decided to break the silence first. "Good evening; I'm Iruka, Umino Iruka. I teach up at the castle. I'm here helping Hagrid look for the injured unicorn, hopefully to help it or at least figure out what's been attacking them. Have you seen anything that might help?"

"I am Firenze." The centaur gazed upwards, through a break in the canopy. "Mars is bright tonight."

After a bit of silence, Iruka spoke again. "I'm afraid I don't know enough to interpret that. Can you help me find the unicorn, please? It's hurt, possibly badly, and the sooner we find it the better its chances."

Firenze looked at him again, clearly deep in thought. "I will accompany you. Nothing good would so harm a unicorn, and I would not have such foulness in my home."

Iruka nodded and returned to following the wounded unicorn's trail, Firenze following close behind. After a few minutes, the centaur spoke again, though he kept his voice low. "Your steps are sure, yet silent; you know forests well, and you know how to respect them."

"My home is surrounded by forests, and my people spend a lot of time in them." Iruka replied

"Your home..." Firenze looked skyward again, pondering. "It is curious how little the stars speak of you, only as you touch others. Your home must be far away indeed if you were not born beneath these stars."

Iruka clamped down on his reaction of surprise at this; he was definitely going to have to read up on centaurs later.

"There are very few reasons to attack a unicorn, none of them good." The centaur changed topic abruptly. "Umino Iruka, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?" Iruka shook his head, and was given a brief lecture on the monstrous act of drinking unicorn blood.

"Such a curse," Iruka said solemnly, "I think I'd rather die than live such a life. I've heard of people going to monstrous lengths to escape death, but even they generally didn't suffer such consequences. Whatever or whoever is doing this must be horrifyingly desperate if they're willing to endure a curse like that just to stay alive."

"Perhaps," Firenze replied, "or perhaps it is only a stopgap measure; perhaps they are merely stealing enough time to last until they get what they truly want."

A chill ran down Iruka's spine. "Such as something that would restore them fully, perhaps?"

"Perhaps. It is certainly curious that this is happening so close to Hogwarts while the castle hosts such a powerful treasure, is it not?"

Iruka nodded grimly. He'd noticed Quirrell getting increasingly pale and shaky over the past few weeks, but had put it down to stress and fear of discovery, but what if it wasn't? What if Quirrell was dying? On the plus side, they might be able to simply wait out the clock and resolve the situation that way, but with unicorn blood involved, that might not work as well. Besides, fear of death could make a man desperate enough to go to extreme lengths, and it would only add fuel to the fire if his salvation would also lift a horrible curse.

Human and centaur walked in thoughtful silence, following the trail, until eventually they came to a clearing. There, sprawled painfully on the ground, a wounded unicorn shone brilliant white in the moonlight. Iruka could see it breathing, but from how labored those breaths were, it was in a bad way. Drawing his wand, he shot green sparks skyward before turning to Firenze. "Do you know if wizarding healing spells will work on a unicorn?" he asked urgently.

Firenze frowned in contemplation. "It may or it may not, but healing magics, cast with good intent, should be safe. There should be no harm in trying, at the least."

That was good enough. With a nod to Firenze, Iruka moved over to the beautiful beast, and immediately began making use of what he'd learned from Madam Pomfrey. The basic healing charms had almost no effect, though he had no idea whether due to the nonhuman patient or dark magic used to inflict the wounds. Pulling a storage scroll from his vest, he quickly unsealed his medical kit. His first stop was a bottle of Essence of Dittany, which he began applying to the unicorn's most serious wounds; a plume of greenish smoke heralded their partial closure. After some specialized wound-cleaning charms, he then proceeded to begin bandaging the unicorn as best he could. Firenze, seeing this, came and helped by lifting the head or whatever leg Iruka was working on so that he could wrap the bandages properly.

Several minutes of diligent first-aid later, Hagrid pushed his way into the clearing. "Dittany helped some," Iruka reported immediately, "but not completely. I'm hesitant to administer anything else without knowing how a unicorn's system would react to a potion meant for humans."

"Long as it's not Dark or poisoned, it shouldn't do any harm. I reckon healin' potions'd probably work all right, though it migh' take a bigger dose on account o' bein' bigger'n a human." Hagrid had by this point come over to join Iruka and Firenze in tending to the downed unicorn.

Nodding to the gamekeeper, Iruka pulled out two phials of blood-replenishing potion and used a specialized charm (apparently based on Switching and Vanishing spells) to send their contents directly into his patient's stomach. After a few seconds, the unicorn's breathing grew stronger and steadier, and its eye slid open.

Hagrid was there in an instant, gently stroking the beast's neck and crooning soothing words of calm and comfort. Slowly, carefully, he helped the unicorn rise unsteadily to its feet. Iruka made sure to back away, knowing that his shinobi career would most likely make him repellant to a creature so sensitive to purity and innocence. He watched as the gamekeeper and centaur steadied their patient, while continuing to tend it as best they could. Slowly, its steps became firmer, its gait steadier; its strength was clearly starting to return.

A few minutes later, Firenze made his way over to Iruka. "The unicorn will recover, though it will take time. I assume you can make your way back to the castle on your own?" Iruka nodded. "Then you should do so. Hagrid and I will lead this one back to its herd; they will keep it safe as it heals. Safe journeys, teacher of the prophesied child."

He _really_ needed to read up on centaurs.

˄  
-――――===ͽ ˂ O ˃ ͼ===――――-  
˅

The next morning, at the earliest opportunity, Iruka paid another visit to the Headmaster's office.

"We may have a serious problem," he stated after refusing Dumbledore's customary offer of candy. "A centaur I spoke to last night while helping Hagrid suggested that the attacks on unicorns have been for the sake of drinking their blood. If Quirrell is responsible, and his sickly appearance lately makes that more plausible, that means that he's getting really desperate for the Stone, and specifically for the Elixir of Life. If he just wanted the Stone for money, it wouldn't be as bad, but if he's so desperate to escape death that he's willing to drink unicorn blood, there's a much higher chance that whatever plan he comes up with will seriously endanger or harm the students. If he's pushed far enough, it might even lead him to take children hostage, demanding the Elixir in exchange for their lives."

Headmaster Dumbledore looked solemn. "Troubling news indeed. We shall have to redouble both our vigilance for the students' sake and our efforts to expose Quirinus as the villain in this case. I am curious if you've any ideas in either regard?"

Iruka nodded. "First and foremost, we need some contingency plans. Make our best guesses as to what Quirrell might try, and prepare as best we can to counter him or at least keep the students out of harm's way. I've thought about such things a bit over the last few months, but I can only do so much with my limited knowledge of both magic and Quirrell."

"True, very true. Then again, I clearly didn't know Quirinus as well as I thought; before this year, I would never have believed him capable of such foul deeds. We _must_ get him away from the students, and the sooner the better. The question is _how_..."

Both men descended into thoughtful silence for several moments, before the Headmaster spoke again. "Perhaps, if we were to lay a trap?"

"What are you suggesting, sir?"

"If Quirinus were to be presented with a clear window of opportunity, his desperation would likely compel him to make an attempt on the Stone. While most of the obstacles in place could be overcome by a sufficiently capable individual, I am confident that the final protection is nigh-impregnable. Driven by his need, Quirinus would strive to obtain the Stone, and in so doing would commit provable wrongdoing, allowing us to finally move against him. At the same time, he would undoubtedly be frustrated in his efforts. The gauntlet of protections is windowless, to prevent a thief from simply bypassing a portion of it, but in this case it could also serve to hide any clear signs of the passage of time..."

"He could work at it for hours, maybe, without realizing it." Iruka completed the thought.

"Precisely! And even were he to somehow obtain the Stone, Quirinus would still need to leave again, and would be doing so with stolen property in his possession, again giving due cause to remove him from the castle."

After discussion and refinement, the two agreed on a plan: Headmaster Dumbledore would leave the castle, stating urgent business at the Ministry that would require him to stay overnight in London. Iruka, meanwhile, would conceal himself near the entrance to the forbidden corridor and keep watch. When Quirrell made his move, the chuunin wouldn't act as long as the turbaned teacher was alone; any company would be either an accomplice, a dupe, or a hostage, and either of the latter two would need action to ensure their safety. He would only act to protect innocent victims, or to stop Quirrell if he tried to leave again. An hour or so after curfew, the Headmaster would return to the castle and hopefully catch Quirrell red-handed.

With luck, Quirrell would be gone within a week.

* * *

 **A/N: Iruka should really know better than to taunt Murphy like that, even in his head...**

 **To guest reviewer "Snd": I will confirm only that Naruto has indeed tasked people with figuring out what happened to Iruka and finding a way to contact/retrieve him.**

 **I've decided to, with each posting or update, also state what chapter I'm currently working on. The idea is** ** **both** to reassure my readers that there's plenty of content already written and to demonstrate over time how variable my writing output gets (which is a big part of why I keep a large buffer).**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Why Kakashi Should Never Read Out Loud" by the lord of the land of fire - A series of short, mostly-unconnected chapters of various bits of wackiness and hilarity.**

 **Posted 14 January 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 51**


	24. 1-14: Trap

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

As they had arranged, Headmaster Dumbledore received an owl at dinner that Thursday and left citing urgent Ministry business. He also made sure that Quirrell was well within earshot when he told Professor McGonagall that he'd be gone until at least the next day.

Iruka made sure to draw out his sealing class that evening, keeping Quirrell in his classroom for as long as possible in the hopes that impatience would drive the man to try for the Stone as soon as he was out of sight. Finally, with half an hour before curfew, he dismissed the class. Avid (and semi-secret) students that they were, S.E.N. were seated in the front row, so Iruka could clearly see Harry cringe and grip his forehead during their conversation and emit a slight hiss of pain.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Neville asked his friend.

"Yeah, just a bad headache; feels like somebody stuck a hot knife into my forehead."

"It's probably just the stress of exams," Hermione advised, "you should get some rest."

"It can't be just the exams," Harry replied somewhat testily, "I've been getting these all year, and always in the same place too."

It was then that Iruka noticed that the young Gryffindor was rubbing the exact location of his scar.

His scar...

An icy hand gripped Iruka's heart as he recalled another cursed mark left by a man disturbingly similar to the one that had marked Harry, how that mark had pained those afflicted with it in response to its creator, and how that creator had used it as a way to repeatedly cheat death. It wasn't Quirinus Quirrell that wanted the Elixir of Life, or at least not him alone.

It was Voldemort.

He immediately stepped over to the three and bent down. "I need you three to get Professor McGonagall, right away. Tell her that I need backup in the forbidden corridor, that the thief is making his move tonight and that he is extremely dangerous. Hurry!" His voice was soft enough that the remaining students wouldn't hear it, but it carried as much urgency as Iruka could manage at that volume.

The trio looked at him in shock for a moment, then nodded with looks of resolve on their faces, hurriedly grabbing their possessions as Iruka made his way out of the classroom.

As soon as he was out of sight of others, Iruka sped back to his quarters. A terminally-ill man desperate to escape death was one thing, but if the actual goal was to restore life to a terrorist so fearsome that people still refused to speak his name a decade after his apparent death, watching and waiting was _not_ a good idea. The only option was to stop Quirrell before he could achieve his goal, no matter what. Reaching his rooms, the chuunin shucked his teaching robes in a single fluid motion and immediately began putting on his shinobi gear; there was no way he was going to potentially confront an S-Rank criminal with just the few kunai he had concealed on him. Thankfully he'd checked it all over and laid it out prior to dinner, but still he berated himself for not wearing it all evening. At the time he'd prioritized secrecy, not wanting to arouse Quirrell's suspicions by having large, visible bulges under his teaching robes.

A few minutes later Iruka emerged, fully geared and ready for battle, and headed for the third floor. Opening the door with an Unlocking Charm, he heard three rumbling growls and saw Fluffy glaring at him thrice over. A harp stood nearby; it had probably been charmed to play itself, but if it had that charm had clearly worn off. Casting his dignity aside and calling upon the part of him that stepped on stage after several cups of sake, the Leaf-nin began singing a lullaby that his mother had often used to lull him to sleep so long ago. While his fellow chuunin teachers hadn't exactly given his karaoke performances good reviews, Fluffy was apparently a bit less picky about music. Several minutes of singing later, Iruka was listening to canine snoring in three-part disharmony. Unfortunately, one gigantic paw was lying right across the trapdoor, and he only barely managed to not wake the irascible cerberus as he carefully lifted that paw aside.

Silently shining a _lumos_ down the hole, Iruka couldn't clearly make out the bottom, but it was definitely at least thirty or forty meters away. He really didn't want to risk such a drop, so with a bit of careful maneuvering he clambered onto the ceiling and then the wall of the shaft below, which thankfully was more than wide enough for him to stand upright as he made his way down. Once he was far enough that Fluffy wouldn't be able to reach him, he finally relaxed and stopped singing. Finally low enough to be confident in his landing, Iruka stepped off the wall.

Instead of the hard stone floor Iruka expected to land on, however he found himself in a soft mass of writhing vines that immediately began wrapping around various parts of his body. His first response, simply pulling free, was counterproductive as the tendrils around him tightened. Cutting through with kunai also failed to make any progress as the creepers simply seemed to become more aggressive and more numerous. Worried now, he dropped the kunai and managed to bring his hands together long enough to form a few quick hand seals. A thin stream of liquid fire erupted from his pursed lips, and wherever it landed the vines quickly retreated, soon leaving Iruka free and standing in the midst of a large area of bare floor. Scooping up and re-sheathing his kunai, he made for the passageway that was the room's only other exit.

Hearing only the sounds of dripping water and of the slithering vines behind him, Iruka proceeded silently down the passageway's gentle downward slope, using only the little ambient light to avoid drawing attention from either Quirrell or whatever other guardians awaited. Soon enough, new sounds became noticeable, as did a light ahead; he could hear clinking and rustling noises coming from his destination. It was as he stepped into the lit chamber that he saw their source: Flying overhead was a vast flock of glittering, brilliantly-colored birds. No, not birds, he realized as he looked more carefully - keys! The obvious explanation was that one of those winged keys would be needed to reach the Stone, but which one?

An examination of the door and its lock confirmed that one, it was indeed locked; two, the Unlocking Charm didn't work on it; and three, the matching key was likely large and silver. Unfortunately, trying to pick the correct key out of possibly thousands of candidates when all were rapidly moving around and a good distance away would be near-impossible. Fortunately, the brooms in one corner of the room suggested a means for a closer look (not to mention a clear way to actually _get_ the key). As he chose a broom, Iruka made a note to berate whoever designed this obstacle for providing the brooms and making a would-be thief's job vastly easier, though he'd also thank them for making _his_ job easier as well.

It took quite a few minutes of flying around and through the swarm of key-birds to spot a likely candidate: One of its wings was damaged, many of its blue feathers bent, though this didn't seem to noticeably impair its ability to fly. An aerial chase followed, with the key fleeing faster and more nimbly than the Golden Snitch in the school Quidditch matches. Iruka's shinobi training gave him enough situational awareness to not lose track of the key, and reflexes and agility to put a professional Seeker to shame, but he'd only spent perhaps a hundred or so hours in the air, and his lack of flying experience was definitely working against him. Finally, after a couple minutes of pursuit, he drew a handful of shuriken. Herding the key out to the edge of the swarm to get its brethren out of the way, Iruka sent the steel stars spinning through the air. The key tried to dodge, but one of the edged projectiles managed to score a hit on the already-damaged wing and sent the ersatz bird on a pitiful spiral to the floor.

A quick landing later, Iruka had the key in his hand despite its feeble struggles, and headed for the door. The next chamber was initially pitch-black, but as he stepped in and the torches on the walls flared to life, he couldn't help but groan out the one word that came to mind at the sight revealed before him.

"Mendokusei..."

The entire width of the room in front of him was filled by a gigantic chessboard, its stone pieces all easily over two meters in height. Faceless white chessmen stood facing him at the far edge, another door visible behind them, while he stood just behind black's ranks. "Let me guess," he sighed, "I have to play through?" Several nearby pieces nodded curtly. "I bet I'll have to stand as one of the black pieces, too." More nods. "And if I try to cross without playing?" At this, each of the white pieces took ready stances and drew weapons that were clearly lethally sharp. Considering the speed and fluidity of their movements, he couldn't be certain of his ability to slip past them unharmed. Even if he managed that, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't follow him deeper in, and he did _not_ want to have to deal with sixteen dangerous assailants at the same time as any subsequent obstacles, to say nothing of the deadly opponent waiting somewhere ahead. "All right, I'll stand as the king." At his words, the black king stepped off the board and stood by the wall.

While he was certainly no Nara, Iruka was hardly an idiot. Still, the game was hard-fought, and it was an impatient chuunin that stormed through the far door and had his already dark mood worsened by a familiar stench. Lying on the ground unconscious was a troll even larger than the one at Halloween. At least _this_ obstacle wouldn't slow him down.

Behind the next door was a small room containing nothing more threatening than a small table with an array of bottles lined up across it and a roll of paper beside the bottles. The instant Iruka stepped fully into the room, however, a wall of purple flames erupted blocking the doorway behind him as black flames blocked the door opposite. A quick genjutsu-release confirmed that these oddly-colored flames were likely real, which made the chuunin more than a tad uncomfortable as he recalled the only black flames he'd ever heard of; he could only hope that whatever these were, they weren't as unstoppable or all-consuming. If there were enough water available, he'd have tried overwhelming the flames with suiton, but between conjuring and manipulating that amount of water, he'd end up exhausted - not a good state to be in when expecting a fight.

The paper held a simple logic puzzle in the form of a short poem; comparing it to the bottles (which were all, strangely, completely full) it wasn't hard for Iruka to figure out what should be in which bottle. What worried him was the possibility that Quirrell could have switched bottles around or mixed their contents. He pulled the stoppers on each bottle, sniffing at their contents. They _seemed_ to match what he expected, but there really was only one way to find out for certain.

Ever since he'd read about their curative properties, Iruka had kept at least one bezoar on him at all times, with several kept in one of his vest pouches. He took these out now, laying them on the table in case he or his backup (which he hoped was coming) chose badly wrong, before taking a swig of the potion on the far right. An icy feeling came over him, and a quick check confirmed that the purple flames felt no hotter than a Floo. He grabbed the paper and pulled a pencil from his kit to jot his solution to the riddle next to the poem, hoping to save his backup a bit of time and trouble, before downing the contents of the smallest bottle; again, he felt like he'd been dipped in ice water.

Replacing the bottle (and seeing it already starting to refill somehow), he steeled himself and stepped through the black flames.

* * *

 **A/N: In the finest tradition of the Naruto anime, cliffhanger!**

 **In response to a guest review, I can 100% assure you that ninjas will** _ **not**_ **be overrunning this story. That is, in fact, part of the point - I want to keep ninja interference to a minimum, focusing instead on Iruka's influence through teaching, supporting, and advising. As far as the students involved, I didn't want to end up populating my story with OCs, and thus have relied as much as possible on canon characters. Unfortunately, JKR didn't really develop many of the side characters all that much, which leaves my options for Iruka's students relatively limited without inventing significant amounts of backstory to justify the inclusion of others. Every student he teaches, he has reasons to begin teaching. Now, if you wanted to do your own version where he picks up some other students that aren't as 'cliche', please just send me a message when you post it so I can see somebody else's take on the concept.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "When Summoning, Please Watch The Wording" by Ryuuza Kochou, a fairly unique Supernatural crossover (with Good Omens, a truly amazing book by Neil Gaiman and the late Sir Terry Pratchett) that perfectly captures the book's style and mindset, particularly regarding the characters used.**

 **Posted 28 January, 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 52**


	25. 1-15: Stone

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

In the next room, his back to the door, stood Quirinus Quirrell, muttering to himself and looking at his reflection in what Iruka recognized as the Mirror of Erised. The instant Iruka moved towards him, however, Quirrell snapped his fingers and the chuunin found himself suddenly cocooned shoulders-to-ankles in black ropes. "I had hoped that I wouldn't have to dispose of you." The man spoke coldly, firmly, with none of his usual stutter or quiver. "Such new and interesting magics you brought, but I cannot abide interference... or witnesses."

Iruka glared coldly back at his newest treacherous colleague. "What _I_ can't abide is people trying to murder my students."

Quirrell smirked darkly. "Ah, so you noticed my little ploy during the Quidditch game, did you? It was risky, really, far too great a chance of exposure, but we all do what we must. Now, as much as I'd love to engage in some spirited intellectual discourse with you, I _am_ rather busy at the moment." With that, he waved his wand and Iruka found himself unable to make a sound.

As Quirrell's attention returned to the mirror, Iruka immediately tried to free himself. Unfortunately, no matter how he moved, the magically conjured ropes kept him bound tightly, unable to even reach any of his weapons. Wrapped this effectively and comprehensively, he couldn't even Substitute his way out, though given the fact that Quirrell and the Mirror were the only items of appropriate size in the room, that would have qualified as a 'high-risk' strategy anyway.

Iruka watched as the traitorous Defense Professor continued to study the Mirror. He would stare at his reflection, examine various details of the frame, walk around to check the back, and occasionally draw his wand to cast various spells. All the while, he continued to mutter to himself. What had Iruka edging towards panic was when a high, cold voice _answered_. It was looking increasingly certain that the supposedly-late Lord Voldemort was involved; which left an important question: Was this some form of remote communication, or was he in the room somehow?

After many tense minutes of watching Quirrell grow progressively more frustrated, Iruka heard the sound of soft footsteps, far too quiet for the turbaned traitor to hear even if he weren't muttering distractedly. Finally, backup! It was only as they got closer that the chuunin realized that the weight and rhythm of the footfalls weren't those of an adult; given the fact that there was only one student who had reason to come here and the ability to go unseen, it was a pretty safe bet who this was.

Making sure that Quirrell was otherwise occupied, Iruka looked straight at where he sensed his student. 'Run, Harry!' Being silenced, he could only hope that the young Potter could read his lips. Whether he could or not, though, his approach only briefly hesitated. A soft rustling of cloth heralded the appearance of a small hand awkwardly holding a shuriken, which was quickly put to work sawing at the magical bindings. Resigned that he couldn't convince the child to flee to safety, Iruka instead wriggled into a position that he hoped would hide the hand from Quirrell's view.

Luck, it would seem, was not on their side that night. "Who's there?!" The hoarse shout came from Quirrell's position but not in his voice. As he swiftly rounded the Mirror, the man's wand flicked and a blast of wind blew Harry's cloak from his shoulders and off into the corner of the room. Another quick wand motion and the student joined his teacher bound on the floor, his appropriated shuriken falling uselessly flat behind Iruka.

"Ah, Harry Potter, of course." Quirrell smiled mockingly. "How kind of you to come; I had feared that I might have to leave that bit of business unfinished. And you even bring me a gift! This cloak will certainly come in handy later; I'll be able to feed you both to Hagrid's beast and then leave unseen, with no-one the wiser. For now, though..." He turned back to the Mirror, continuing his examination. "I don't understand... is the stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it? What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master! "

The other voice replied. "Use the boy... Use the boy..."

A clap of Quirrell's hands had Harry free, before he ordered the young Gryffindor to stand before the mirror and describe what he saw. He was so focused on the mirror that he clearly missed the subtle tug of Harry's robes, as if something heavy had been dropped into his pocket. Iruka's rapidly-escalating panic wasn't helped by his student's frankly pathetic attempt at a lie, and that was before, at the voice's urging, Quirrell began unwrapping his turban. When he turned around, the _second face_ on the back of his head fixed its red-eyed ophidian stare on Harry.

After a brief monologue that was half cryptic, half informative, and all melodramatic, the now-confirmed Voldemort demanded the Stone from Harry's pocket. Some fairly textbook attempts at intimidation and psychological warfare later, a now enraged Harry glanced briefly at Iruka before darting for the exit with Quirrellmort in pursuit. The moment Quirrell's hand seized the boy's wrist, however, both shrieked in pain and Iruka could swear he heard a soft sizzling sound. Harry quickly broke the hold on his wrist (if they survived, Iruka would praise him for flawlessly executing the basic taijutsu move) and both combatants retreated several steps, both still clearly in pain. Quirrell was actually hunched over, cradling a hand that was clearly burned and blistering.

Commanded by his master, Quirrell attacked again, bearing Harry to the ground under his weight and wrapping both hands around the boy's throat, screaming in pain as he did so. Another textbook hold-breaking technique later and the possessed man was again retreating, both hands now severely burned. At his master's order, Quirrell raised his hand to cast a presumably lethal curse, but Harry was faster. He leaned forward, grabbing his opponent's raised hand with his own and pushing it away while his other hand reached for the man's face. The screams this time were of an even higher pitch and intensity, largely drowning out Voldemort's furious shrieking, but Harry himself was clearly hurting a great deal as well. Quirrell tried to roll away, but his intended victim kept hold of him, maintaining contact even as his own strength visibly waned.

Iruka's heart soared when Albus Dumbledore strode through the black flames, his face a mix of concern and righteous fury. A barrage of spells blasted Quirrell away from Harry, sent his wand flying from his pocket, and left him bound, unconscious, and likely incapacitated in a few other ways as well. As the Headmaster ran to his fallen student, an oily black mist streamed out of Quirrell. Dumbledore fired off several spells into the cloud, but they seemed to have no effect as it fled shrieking through the wall.

Headmaster Dumbledore's attention immediately returned to Harry, frantically casting diagnostic spells for several seconds before sighing in relief. "Just exhausted," he said as he Vanished Iruka's bonds and canceled the silencing spell, "but it was a close-run thing." After Summoning the Stone from Harry's pocket, he rose and moved over to Quirrell's still form, casting more spells. "It would appear that Quirinus was not so fortunate. Possession exacts a terrible toll on the body, which would explain his resorting to unicorn blood, and without the Elixir of Life it is doubtful that he could have survived the wraith's departure even without such grievous wounds." Now the aged wizard seemed to scrutinize the late Professor. "I have my suspicions, but I must ask you while hoping they are wrong: Was it Lord Voldemort possessing him?"

"That's what he claimed," Iruka replied as he crouched by his unconscious student, performing some basic first-aid checks. "I actually came down here after him because Harry's scar started hurting, and he said it'd been hurting on occasion since the Sorting. It reminded me of something from back home, a mark that a notorious criminal would place on prospective followers; he could use it to inflict pain on them when he was near, and twice he used it to cheat death. That set me worrying that Voldemort wasn't as dead as most hoped, and that Quirrell wasn't just seeking the Stone for himself."

"Perhaps we might continue this conversation after delivering Mister Potter to the care of Madam Pomfrey?" Dumbledore gestured towards the black flames, before heading for the door. Iruka nodded, gently lifting Harry's insensate form and following. They stopped in the potions room to sip from the 'return' bottle and spell some of its potion into Harry's stomach, and grabbed a pair of brooms from the key room to make their way back up the shaft to the third floor. As they walked, Iruka recounted his and subsequently Harry's encounters with Quirrell and his passenger.

"It was incredibly foolhardy of Harry to come after me like that." Iruka looked down at the unconscious first-year in his arms. "It was also incredibly brave and incredibly lucky. If it weren't for him, I might not have made it out of there alive, and you might have found yourself facing a restored Voldemort. He showed why the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor tonight. True, he froze at first, but that's pretty common the first time somebody is in that kind of danger." He chuckled ruefully. "Even the current leader of Konoha, one of the greatest heroes in our history, froze up like that. Once he started acting, though, he kept his head. I could see it in his eyes when he tried to run that he was hoping to lure Quirrell away from me while I was helpless, and when he had to fight he refused to give up despite the pain he was in. I just wish it hadn't been necessary, that I hadn't let Quirrell catch me flat-footed like that."

"Even the best of victories leave us with regrets," Dumbledore commiserated, "but I cannot help but think of how tremendously proud James and Lily would be of their son, even if at the moment it would be overridden by worry."

Upon entering the Hospital Wing, Iruka saw his other two students were already present. Neville was lying in one of the beds, whether asleep or unconscious he couldn't tell, while Hermione had leapt from her seat nearby to rush over to the newcomers as soon as she saw them. "Harry!" Her shout was loud enough to draw Madam Pomfrey bustling form her office. "Is he all right, Professor? Are _you_ all right? What happened to Professor Quirrell? Is the Stone safe?" As usual for Hermione, her excitement caused her to fire off a stream of questions at high speed without waiting for answers.

It seemed that rescuing Iruka was in fashion that evening, as Madam Pomfrey spoke first. "Miss Granger!" Her scolding admonition was much quieter than the girl's inquiries. "Kindly refrain from disturbing Mister Longbottom's much-needed rest!" Chastised, Hermione withdrew with a sheepish expression. "Now, it would seem I have another patient. Please set him down here, Professor." She indicated a nearby bed. Iruka, knowing better than to tempt the ire of a medic in any world, promptly complied.

Several scans later, the Healer nodded. "Magical exhaustion, and as severe as I've seen it in a student. Dare I ask how this came about? No, no I thought not. Regardless, Mister Potter is well enough otherwise. I'll need to scan him again in the morning to confirm the timing, but for now I'd say that he should be awake in two to three days. He'll need to stay at least another day or two after that for further rest and monitoring, but after that he should make a full recovery. Now, unless you're expecting any _more_ casualties to come through my door tonight, it is past time for all of us to seek our beds."

"Of course, Poppy." Headmaster Dumbledore turned to Iruka. "Professor, would you be so good as to escort Miss Granger back to Gryffindor Tower? I'm afraid that my role in handling tonight's excitement is far from over, but it would ease my mind to be certain that all our students are accounted for."

"Of course, Headmaster." Iruka tipped his head to his employer before addressing Hermione. "Shall we?"

Once they were out of earshot of the Hospital Wing and the departing Headmaster, Iruka spoke again. "The Stone is safe, and Quirrell is no longer a danger to anyone. As for me, the only injury I took tonight was to my pride, something I intend to fix as soon as possible. Beyond that, I'd prefer to wait until I can speak to all three of you to share any details, though I _will_ be hearing how I ended up with a first-year student backing me up instead of a trained adult. That can wait too, though; for now, we all need to rest and recover from one frantic evening."

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 **A/N: Sorry for the somewhat (~6-10 hours) late posting! My routine got thrown off a little, which led to distraction. Also, apologies for the relatively short chapter, but as I've said before I try to break them where it makes the most sense to me.  
**

 **Yes, Iruka got his arse kicked. He underestimated his opponent and didn't have enough knowledge about magic. Now, however, he _realizes_ this, which means he's less likely to make the first mistake and can start working on fixing the second. Both S.E.N.'s training and Iruka's own are going to change as a result of this (which is a big part of why I had things shake out the way I did, the other major reason being that Iruka stealth-ganking Quirrelmort would be boring and anticlimactic). I will admit that this was one of the very few places in the story where I've actively steered events rather than just letting the characters do whatever makes the most sense at the time.**

 **Regarding Harry breaking Quirrelmort's holds, both sets of martial arts classes I've taken taught numerous responses to being grabbed by one or both wrists. Part of my takeaway from this (other than learning the techniques) was that grabbing the wrist of a trained martial artist is at best unproductive and at worst a recipe for pain (unless perhaps you're at least comparably well-trained). The more practically-oriented classes also included a couple of responses to manual choking. Given that both are part of mundane self-defense courses, it made sense to me that they'd be part of what limited taijutsu Iruka has taught to S.E.N. (and Luna) thus far.**

 **Voldemort's wraith didn't fly through Harry because I'm going by the book version of events, in which Harry simply passed out from the strain. Also, there's no way to state this in-story, but Harry will be waking up a few hours earlier than in canon because his training with Iruka has slightly strengthened his magic and more noticeably strengthened his body.**

 **EDIT: Apparently some people aren't getting their alert emails, and one such suggested I point this out in case others are affected and haven't yet noticed. This seems to happen on occasion on ffnet, and is rather frustrating. On the plus side, you know at least approximately (very approximate this chapter, I'll admit) when I update.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Cupboard Series 1: The Cupboard Under the Stairs" by Stargon1 - first in a long series of fics (as you may have guessed from the title), it has a Harry that's somewhat less unaffected by his 'upbringing', though not nearly to the degree of "Brutal Harry". The entire series has concluded, and is well worth the read.**

 **Posted 11 February 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 52 (Currently a bit stalled while planning future plot details)  
Edited 6 June 2018: The Cloak of Invisibility is non-summonable, apparently. This is now accounted for.  
Current WIP Chapter: 61  
Edited 15 July 2018: Made it clearer that Iruka was wrapped up thoroughly, so he can't just kick his way out of the problem, thanks to a review from user "iluvstorys".  
Current WIP Chapter: 63  
**


	26. 1-16: Debriefing

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Classes that Friday were canceled aside from exams; a rotation of other teachers would cover the remaining Defense exams. Iruka, meanwhile, spent the morning in the Hospital wing getting the story from Hermione and a now-awake Neville.

Apparently, the three had headed from Sealing class directly to the office of their Head of House. Unfortunately, Minerva hadn't believed them that the Stone was under threat. She was totally confident in its protections, and didn't let them explain the situation. Of course, it didn't help that the attempted explanation was coming from three frantic first-years that didn't have the complete picture themselves and were talking about something they weren't supposed to know anything about in the first place. Still, the phrase 'due diligence' would be coming up in Iruka's next conversation with the Transfiguration teacher.

The trio had then discussed their next course of action: Hagrid was the only other staff member still available that they were sure even knew about the Stone, and was also the only one they were at all close to. His hut was a long way to go for something so urgent, especially with curfew fast approaching. They were likely to be stopped by another Professor, and there was a good chance that he wouldn't be home when they got there anyway. With no confidence in their ability to recruit any of the staff to back up their teacher, they resolved to aid Iruka themselves. As much as Iruka wanted to be mad at them for giving up on the staff so easily, he couldn't help the swell of gratitude at their show of loyalty and dedication.

Given the imminent curfew, and the advantages inherent in stealth, S.E.N. made a stop at Gryffindor Tower to drop off their bags, grab the flute Harry had received from Hagrid, and gather under Harry's cloak before sneaking back to the third floor. The flute had worked to lull Fluffy to sleep, and the three had dropped blindly into the darkness; Iruka could only assume that there was some sort of enchantment on the shaft to slow the fall to a safe speed. Neville had almost instantly recognized the Devil's Snare, and Hermione's signature bluebell flames had driven it back. Based on Neville's knowing look towards a slightly sheepish Hermione, the chuunin had to assume that there was some embarrassing detail they were carefully omitting from that part of the tale.

With the key's wing so badly damaged, it hadn't taken Harry long at all to retrieve it, while Hermione gathered up the shuriken Iruka had thrown, distributing them between the trio as they moved on (at this point in the tale, they each returned their portions to Iruka). The chessboard had frustrated them for a time, as none were particularly skilled at the game, but between the three of them they'd been able to pull out a win. Unfortunately, that win had come at the cost of Neville being captured, which drew a wince from Iruka as he recalled how brutal the captures in that set had been. The young Gryffindor had been knocked unconscious, and was still recovering from a nasty concussion. Before being taken, Neville had urged his friends to continue without him while reassuring them that the move was necessary. With Neville now unconscious at that point in the tale, Hermione continued her recounting alone.

As with Iruka, Harry and Hermione had quickly passed the unconscious troll. The dentists' daughter had insisted on double-checking the solution her teacher had written down for the potions puzzle for safety's sake. Confirming that the smallest bottle held the potion required to move forward, neither realized that it had to be self-refilling, and so both had concluded that only one of them could move forward. Harry encouraged Hermione to go back to get Neville to the Hospital Wing and do her best to contact Headmaster Dumbledore. She had actually passed the Headmaster in the corridor outside Fluffy's room, passing on what little she knew of events below, before helping a semiconscious Neville down to Madam Pomfrey's care.

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Contrary to Poppy's eminently sensible prescription for rest, Albus had spent much of the night liaising with the DMLE. A death at Hogwarts, even that of the Defense Professor (a decidedly accident-prone position in recent decades), was a serious incident and needed to be reported. That he had died while attempting to murder a student during an attempted robbery just added to the mess, never mind the identity of the student in question. Albus had been forced to explain to an irate Amelia Bones about Nicholas's Stone and the protections placed on it, as well as Quirinus's actions over the course of the year and the plan to bait him into action in order to finally prove wrongdoing.

Amelia had _not_ been pleased when she learned precisely whose face had been hidden under that purple turban, a sentiment Albus heartily shared considering the fact that it meant that Voldemort had infiltrated Hogwarts right under his nose and spent nearly an entire school year surrounded by vulnerable and impressionable children. Unfortunately, both reluctantly agreed that there was simply not enough evidence to officially identify the wraith. Given that lack, and the danger inherent in effectively announcing to those Death Eaters still at large that their former master was not wholly dead, it was decided between them to keep the whole matter as quiet as possible, as neither wanted to give Lucius Malfoy and his allies an opportunity to force Albus and possibly others out of Hogwarts in favor of teachers more in line with the Dark.

Once all of Amelia's questions had been answered adequately (save for those that would require her to speak with Professor Umino) and Quirinus's remains had been removed to the DMLE morgue, Albus stole a few hours of precious sleep before reluctantly spoiling Nicholas and Perenelle's breakfast with news of their Stone's near-theft. Much of his morning was spent in Devon, delivering the Stone back to its owners and discussing their options going forward.

After returning to the castle for a late lunch, he first visited the Hospital Wing to speak with Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom in greater detail than the previous night's urgency had permitted. Professor Umino had conveniently also been present for similar reasons, so after the interview Albus asked the visiting scholar to his office to discuss the previous night's events and provide a statement to the DMLE. While his Seals teacher was speaking to the Aurors, Albus put quill to parchment in order to notify Augusta Longbottom of young Neville's injury the previous night.

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Neville was released from the Hospital Wing on Saturday morning; Harry wouldn't wake until early the following day, according to Madam Pomfrey. Thanks to a thorough scan (at Iruka's prompting), the school Healer was also working out a potions regimen to hopefully correct some of the effects of long-term low-level malnutrition. She was already planning to vanish and regrow a couple of bones that showed evidence of improperly-set fractures, likely injuries from 'Harry Hunting' and bones made weak through lack of proper nutrients. It was actually lucky for Harry that he was unconscious and would remain so throughout the bone regrowth process, as it was apparently quite unpleasant.

Iruka spent several hours that day with Hermione and Neville, talking over what had happened. All three were a bit distracted with concern for Harry, but with Neville under orders to take it easy they couldn't work the tension out with physical training. Instead, Iruka took the two through Thursday night step by step, reviewing their actions and decisions in detail. He praised them where appropriate, but also pointed out their mistakes and places where they had better options (though their only big mistake was giving up so quickly on finding adult help). After going through their account, he shared his own and all three examined it for critique; he too got a good review for most of it, but definitely lost points at the end. The remainder of their time that day was spent talking about how they'd felt during the crisis, and how they'd been feeling since, as Iruka wanted to make sure that both children were dealing with it all in a healthy way (and no matter what the Sixth said, chronic tardiness and reading adult novels in public were _not_ healthy ways of dealing with anything).

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True to the school Healer's prediction Harry woke, groggy and weak, on Sunday morning. Both Iruka and the Headmaster had been waiting by the young boy's bedside, though other than providing some quick assurances about the safety of Neville, Hermione, and the Stone, the chuunin let his current employer do most of the talking.

Harry was clearly even more frustrated than his teacher at Dumbledore's refusal to share Voldemort's motivation in targeting the youngest Potter a decade before. The elder wizard's explanation for Quirrell's burns seemed to confirm Xeno and Pandora's theory, but his elucidation of the reasons behind Snape's vitriol towards Harry gave Iruka a headache. As egotistical as his description of his use of the Mirror was, though, it was admittedly a brilliantly elegant protection.

Finally, once all of Harry's questions to the Headmaster had been answered (or at least addressed), the Grand Sorcerer politely excused himself to attend his various responsibilities. With Madam Pomfrey relaxing in her office and the Hospital wing otherwise unoccupied, Iruka took the opportunity to cast a basic privacy spell.

"It didn't help much, did it?" Harry's face showed only confusion at his teacher's question. "When Headmaster Dumbledore told you that Quirrell's death wasn't your fault, it didn't make you feel all that much better. While you may know here," Iruka gently tapped his temple, "that it was purely due to the actions of Quirrell and Voldemort, you don't really feel it _here_." He tapped over his heart.

Based on his student's expression, he knew that he'd hit the mark but that Harry was now wondering _how_ he knew. "You know what I used to train students for, back home. They'd graduate, get assigned to teams, go out on missions... and sooner or later they'd come back from a mission with that same look in their eyes. It's the look of someone who's been in mortal combat for the first time and come back alive, with all that implies for their enemy. That you're not actually responsible at all for Quirrell's death doesn't matter right now as much as the fact that you _feel_ responsible."

Iruka paused for a few moments to gather his thoughts. "I was almost exactly your age when I killed for the first time. It started out as a pretty standard low-level mission, just escorting a merchant from Konoha to the capital. The road was well-traveled and well-patrolled, nowhere near anything dangerous; it should have been a simple walk there and back."

"It wasn't."

"On our second day outside the village, a group of bandits ambushed us. They weren't particularly well-equipped or well-trained, but they were numerous and clearly more than a little desperate." His eyes clouded over in remembrance. "Hiro-sensei went through them like a whirlwind through a pile of leaves, but a couple managed to slip past and rush us. My teammates and I brought them down, no problem, until one of them charged me with a kunai he'd picked up off the ground. It felt just like training, like a spar. I threw my own kunai at him; looking back I must have expected him to deflect or dodge it like one of my teammates would have, but he didn't have our training."

The next part was hard to remember, even three decades later. "It hit him right where I'd aimed it, buried itself in his throat. He dropped his kunai, clutching at the one I'd thrown as if it would somehow go away. Luckily he was the last to get through; even with all the violence around me, I couldn't look away from him, and probably wouldn't have been able to get my guard up in time if someone else had come at me. I just watched in horror as he laid there, saw the fear in his eyes as they slowly dimmed. I'd seen worse before, a lot of it was even happening around me right then, but this was something _I did_."

"It didn't matter that I didn't _mean_ to kill him like that. It didn't matter that if I hadn't acted, _he_ would have killed _me_ , and possibly one of my teammates or our client. A man died in pain and fear at my hand, and nothing I could do would ever change that or take it back. We may have had classes on how to deal with killing, learned coping methods, been taught to shut away our feelings, been conditioned and prepared to handle it; none of that meant a damn when you saw the light fade from a human being's eyes and knew that it was because of you."

"That night, after everyone else was asleep, Hiro-sensei sat down beside me, and we talked. He shared the story of his first kill, gave me his own personal tips on coping, and reassured me again and again that he was proud of me. I still had nightmares that night, but spending time around my team and our client drove a lot of them away by the time we reached the capital."

"I am proud of you, Harry. I am proud of you for striving to be your best. I am proud of you for braving danger for another's sake. I am proud of you for working together with your friends to overcome tremendous challenges. I am proud of you for keeping your head in a situation that would leave most people panicked. I am proud of you for facing down your parents' killer and doing your best to stop his plans. I am proud of you for refusing to give up in spite of overwhelming odds. I am proud of you for surviving a terrible ordeal."

"You're probably feeling guilty about feeling proud about thwarting Quirrell and Voldemort. You _should_ feel proud of your accomplishment. The means behind that accomplishment weren't pleasant, but they _were_ necessary. It's okay to feel good about _winning a fight_ just as long as that doesn't turn into pride over _killing an enemy_."

"I know for a fact that you're hurting over feeling like you took a life. That's not just okay, that's _good_. It means that you're still human, still a good person. As much as I wish that you would never have to feel like this again, I think we both know that someone like Voldemort isn't the type to leave you alone: You're a stain on his supposed invincibility, an embarrassment that he won't be able to ignore, so chances are he'll come after you every chance he gets. We grown-ups will do our best to protect you, but as you've seen that doesn't always work. You'll probably have to fight again, and it's unlikely that all of your enemies will survive. As horrible as it sounds, killing does get easier. On the one hand, that's good in that it means that we don't suffer as badly; on the other hand, it's bad in the cases where killing gets _too_ easy. Every decent person that steps onto the battlefield has to make sure that it always hurts, at least a little, to take a life; when it stops hurting, that's when you can get people like Voldemort."

Harry listened to Iruka's little speech, enthralled but still visibly conflicted. "But... I didn't hesitate at all," he finally replied in a small voice, "I knew what touching me was doing to him and I kept at it. It wasn't just a reflex taking over, or an accident. I saw that it hurt him and I _used_ that to _keep_ hurting him."

"Did you enjoy it?" Iruka's question provoked a look of revulsion and betrayal. "Of course you didn't. You were fighting for your life, and for the lives of others. Even the most gentle of people can get ruthless when they're desperate - it's one of the only ways most people can bring themselves to kill without special conditioning. As much as people fight over things, very, _very_ few can kill in cold blood. Of those that can, some are monsters like Voldemort, but others are still good people; they kill their own heart, enduring the pain of taking a life for the sake of protecting those that are precious to them."

"Remember how I talked about Jiraya-sama? He always said that a ninja is someone that endures: We endure strict training, harsh battles, fear and suspicion from others, the losses of friends and comrades, and the pain of killing our enemies. You're not a ninja, by training or profession, but I think you would have made an amazing one if you'd been born in Konoha. You'll endure this, like you've endured so much in the past, and you'll come away stronger than before. I believe in you, Harry."

The boy before him was clearly fighting to hold back tears. "Thank you, sensei," he finally choked out.

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Student and teacher spent the next hour discussing life, death, and battle. Now that a bit of a wall had been broken down between their experiences, Iruka was able to share things he'd held back previously in some of his tales. Rather than be disturbed or disgusted, Harry was clearly reassured by the fact that someone could go through something like his confrontation with Voldemort (and even a lot more) yet still come through as relatively normal and healthy as his teacher.

With Harry finally on a more even keel, the two moved on to reviewing everyone's actions that night. As he had with Neville and Hermione, the chuunin had his student examine both his own decisions and others' to understand what was done right and what could have been done better. Confronting the fight against Quirrell was hard for Harry, but he definitely seemed a bit lighter afterward; scrutinizing it so clinically took away a bit of its power over him.

The most positive sign came near the end of their review: During a thoughtful pause, Iruka caught a slight sniggering from his student. A raised eyebrow soon prompted an explanation. "I just remembered - over Christmas hols, Fred and George charmed some snowballs to repeatedly pelt Quirrell's turban. Now we know..."

Hogwarts' Hospital Wing rang with laughter.

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A little after lunch, Harry got two more visitors. At first, he seemed to shrink back a bit, as if he was afraid of something. "I'm sorry," he said as soon as they walked over, "you were in so much danger because you went with me, and now you'll be in more danger because you're my friends, and a professor died, and I'll understand if you don't want to be friends with me any more-"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Healthy set of lungs on that girl... "Neville and I _agreed_ with you that we couldn't rely on the staff to help Iruka-sensei. It was _our_ decision, _all three_ of us, to go ourselves. You're trying to take all the blame as if you somehow _forced_ Neville and me to go with you, but we were just as much a part of that decision as you were! Yes, we were in danger, but so were you! Do you really think we're the kind of people to abandon their friends to danger, then or now? That we're worse than _trash_? And as far as Prof- as far as _Quirrell_ is concerned, I'm sure you only did what you had to do to save yourself and Iruka-sensei. Him being dead isn't _nearly_ as important to us as _you_ being alive. _Honestly!_ None of us have so many friends that we're willing to lose one of our first and best, so get it through your head, Harry James Potter, that we are not going _anywhere_."

It was only as she was finally winding down that Hermione noticed Neville and Iruka chuckling at Harry's glazed expression. "What she said, mate," said a smiling Neville. "So, are you okay?"

Harry's face became pensive. "No, I'm not, not right now," he said at last, "but I think I will be."

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Hermione had eventually remembered to pass along a note to Iruka from Headmaster Dumbledore. It asked him to come up to the Headmaster's office at the next convenient opportunity, but stressed that he not rush but rather focus first on his students. So it was that when the chuunin teacher finally left his three students to continue chatting among themselves, he proceeded upstairs to the Headmaster's office.

Once the usual pleasantries had been exchanged, and his guest seated, Professor Dumbledore gave Iruka a knowing smile. "So, Professor, I asked you here because I hoped that we might discuss your background as a child soldier."

* * *

 **Omake:**

"I am Lord Voldemort!"

The redheaded boy continued to glare impassively, but a layer of sand pulled away from every stone surface in the room…

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" The strange silver-haired man bound on the floor was apparently distracted by the little orange book lying open in front of him. Where had he gotten that, and why were so many birds chirping this late at night?

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"You," hissed the pale, effeminate man in front-ish of him, "are a pathetic imitation. I'm sure you'll make a fascinating research subject, however…"

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"And I'm Uzimaki Naruto, ya know! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh? You and what army?"

That was the _wrong_ question to ask...

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"I am unimpressed." The dour black-haired young man in the strange robe stared at him calmly. Suddenly, Lord Voldemort's scarlet eyes met another pair of red eyes, and everything got _strange_.

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"Who?" The bizarre green-clad man looked at him in confusion, before realization visibly dawned. "That name, you must be..."

"Yes, now you realize just how doomed-"

"...French!" came the triumphant shout.

"What."

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"I am Lord Voldemort!"

"I am way too sober to deal with this crap," groaned the well-endowed blonde.

* * *

 **A/N: Omake based on an idea in a review from Black' Victor Cachat. Feel free to submit your own!**

 **Dumbledore's conversation with Harry is not significantly different from the one in canon, and I didn't want to just quote a big block of text practically verbatim.**

 **Iruka's story about his first kill is completely without canon support, just something I made up.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Troubling New Developments" by SicTransitGloria – The jounin-sensei discover that the toughest part of the job isn't enemy ninja; it's puberty.**

 **Posted 25 February 2018  
Updated 11 March 2018: Added to the Omake  
Current WIP Chapter: 52  
**


	27. 1-17: Revelation

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

 _Once the usual pleasantries had been exchanged, and his guest seated, Professor Dumbledore gave Iruka a knowing smile. "So, Professor, I asked you here because I hoped that we might discuss your background as a child soldier."_

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Iruka tensed, then visibly relaxed after a second of running several escape/combat scenarios through his head; it was obvious that none would be necessary. "I take it I should have spent more time learning how to detect and counter eavesdropping spells?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I must confess to having engaged in something of a persistent campaign of surveillance upon you since you began meeting with Messrs. Potter and Longbottom and Ms. Granger." At a dark look from Iruka, he quickly continued in a placating tone. "I myself have heard very little of your conversations, rather trusting to the judgement and discretion of one of my predecessors." Here, he gestured to a nearby portrait of a witch, labeled 'Dilys Derwent, Headmistress 1741-1768', the occupant of which nodded to Iruka with a warm and approving smile. "Prior to her tenure as Headmistress here, Dilys was a Healer at St. Mungo's, and is thus well-acquainted with the handling of confidential and personal information."

The Headmaster's face became stern. "You must understand that when you first came here, you had very little in the way of character references, for good or ill. Given both Harry Potter's publicly-expected arrival and the far-less-public plan to relocate the Stone here for safekeeping, I'm sure you can see why I felt the need for caution. Your actions at Halloween eased my fears somewhat, as you risked one of your secrets for the sake of a student. I questioned the portraits in the relevant corridors, you see, to check whether you had made any attempt to probe the forbidden corridor. Imagine my surprise, then, when they said that you had moved in ways heretofore thought impossible for a human being. Out of respect for your actions, I commanded the paintings to keep your rather extraordinary mobility a secret."

"My concern was again prompted when you took such a direct interest in Mr. Potter, as well as two other first-year Gryffindors. Surely you can understand why I felt the need to make certain that nothing... _inappropriate_ was occurring. What little I heard was well within acceptable boundaries, and Dilys has assured me without sharing any details that your subsequent meetings have remained so."

"Beyond that, I have managed to get a look inside your rather remarkable configuration of the Room of Requirement - a truly marvelous secret of Hogwarts, would you not agree? - but I can only assume that your specifications for the Room included privacy, as the listening charms I placed proved ineffective. Assuming that we do not find ourselves irreconcileably at odds, I should very much like to see at some point what form of training and exercise the four of you take part in. Regardless, you have throughout this year demonstrated by word and deed that you place the welfare of your students first and foremost; you have also been honest in all regards save for the concealment of your background and capabilities, something for which I cannot truly blame you."

"And finally yes, I did place a listening charm near Mister Potter's bed, though I have since cancelled it. Your behavior at Halloween was my first indication that you had been a soldier of some sort, but I have been trying to piece together the puzzle that is Iruka Umino throughout this year. My instinct told me that your conversation with young Harry would provide the missing piece that would allow the others to make a coherent whole, and your account of your history proved said instinct accurate. I felt that with that revelation, it would be best to clear the air between us; this year's events have proven that you could be a potent and valuable ally and comrade in what I fear is an inevitably coming struggle against Lord Voldemort and his followers."

Iruka nodded. "I certainly can't fault you for your caution; I'd have been at least as suspicious as you were and probably a lot nosier. As you figured out, I'm a professional soldier; the terms we use are 'shinobi' and 'ninja'. I've found that these terms apply to a group of people from Japanese history, but those ninja honestly only bear the vaguest resemblance to what I am. They were mostly spies and saboteurs; their skills were focused far more on disguise and infiltration than on combat. We are more combat-oriented, though naturally there are those who specialize in various areas both combat-related and not. These historical ninja were also, at least as far as the Muggle sources I found them in could tell me, unable to use magic or other similar abilities."

"Something that I've kept from almost everyone in Britain is that Hi no Kuni is, as far as I can discern, not in this world. It's part of a continent we know as the Elemental Nations, with many countries of various sizes, and no part of the maps or globes I've looked at shows anything familiar. My best guess, and Pandora and Xeno have reached the same conclusion, is that I'm somehow from another world."

Dumbledore blinked. "Well, I suppose that would explain why you've had so much difficulty in finding your way home. There are fanciful tales of travel between alternate worlds, but to my knowledge you are the first confirmed case of this. If you and Pandora agree, and if I can somehow find time to do so, I would very much like to take a thorough new look through your work thus far, this time in light of this information."

Iruka shrugged. "I'll ask Pandora, though I'm sure she'll be fine with it. Her concept won't be able to get me home, but I'm still holding out hope that some other method will come up that could work. Regardless, you should probably know a bit more about shinobi, our role in our world, and our history..."

He proceeded to give Professor Dumbledore an explanation very similar to the one he'd given Xeno and Pandora when they were considering Luna's request to train with him. As with the Lovegoods, he painted an honest but still biased picture, focusing on the more positive and more recent aspects of shinobi life rather than uglier parts like ANBU and ROOT. Iruka also shared a couple of the more positive anecdotes from his own career, to contrast the darker and bloodier tales the man had apparently heard from his conversation with Harry.

"To be honest, I'd been considering talking to you about all of this anyway after the events last Thursday night. I went into that room expecting a fight, and yet Quirrell caught me by surprise and had me incapacitated with frankly humiliating ease. If my students are going to be in danger from wizards again, and it certainly seems like they will be, I need to be able to protect them. To do that, I need to learn more about how wizards fight, and how to fight _against_ them. Since you already know about my background and will likely soon see more my capabilities, I was hoping I might be able to ask you for help."

The aged wizard nodded with a smile. "If the opportunity presents itself, I would be happy to assist you in that regard, though my various responsibilities may make such occasions rarer than you would prefer. Filius Flitwick would be an excellent person to approach in this matter, should you be willing to expand your circle of trust to include him; having known the man for decades, I can vouch for both his character and ability."

"While your past history may be rather more... _colorful_ than my other staff, the context you've provided shows that you have spent much of your adult life in the service of others, whether that be by protecting or by teaching." The Headmaster smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling brightly behind his half-moon spectacles. "I would be happy to see you continuing to teach here at Hogwarts, and would be very pleased if you would call me Albus."

"I'd be happy to stay here, Albus," the chuunin replied with a grin, "and please, call me Iruka."

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All three members of S.E.N. returned to their classes on Monday, pushing aside thoughts of the previous week's adventure while they completed their exams. A few more days passed before Harry and Neville were both declared fit for vigorous activity by Madam Pomfrey, and so it was that they travelled to their training room on Saturday. Upon entering, they were clearly startled to see someone familiar standing beside the teacher they expected.

"Headmaster Dumbledore? What are you doing here?" Hermione blurted out her question before a look of embarassment came over her face. "I'm sorry Professor, I was just-"

A raised hand and gentle smile from the venerable mage halted her babbled apology. "It is quite all right, Ms. Granger. I suppose it must come as something of a surprise to the three of you to find me here, but Professor Umino was kind enough to allow me to witness one of your training sessions. Please, carry on as if I were not present."

At a confirming nod from Iruka, the three first-years did as asked. "They're just changing into their exercise clothes," he explained to his guest as they waited, "since they'll need to be able to move freely without their clothing binding, catching on things, or exposing more than it should."

"Sensible." The Headmaster nodded. "I note that your clothing is the same as that which you wore last Thursday night; I take it that this is your official uniform?"

"That's essentially right. The only part of this outfit that is strictly part of my duty uniform is this." Iruka pointed to his hitai-ate. "Every shinobi is given one when they first graduate, as a symbol that they are now a ninja. The engraved symbol differs for each village, generally a symbol or stylized version of whatever the village is named for: A leaf for the Village Hidden in the Leaves, a musical note for Sound, and the like. Vests like this one are given out when a shinobi earns a promotion from genin, the lowest rank, to chuunin, the intermediate rank. Everything else I'm wearing is essentially the basic standard garb for a Konoha ninja; plenty of us wear this outfit on duty, sometimes with slight variations, but many choose to wear clothes that better suit their own personal fighting style and fashion sense."

By this time his students had begun emerging from their locker rooms, so Iruka began their lesson as usual while Dumbledore took a seat in a conjured armchair at the edge of the vestibule.

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This, Albus felt, was truly Iruka's element. He watched as the younger wizard - no, _ninja_ , he corrected himself - led his students through various physical exercises interspersed with periods of rest and meditation and what was clearly some form of martial arts routine. All the while, he kept up a constant stream of encouragement, praise, and information (the lattermost of which Albus listened to avidly). While he was certain that the younger man would handle a full-sized class of children differently, his methods here still showed the benefits of many years of teaching the material involved.

All three students were demonstrating noticeably greater strength, agility, and endurance than many of their peers could boast. Given that this was after only a matter of months, Albus could only assume that if they kept up their training through to graduation, they would be in fantastic physical shape and likely enjoy particularly good health as a result. A part of him also noted that such speed, stamina, and coordination would be tremendous assets in a duel, and that all three could likely become truly fearsome combatants in the years to come. Harry would stand in much better stead to face Voldemort and his followers as a result of this training, with two powerful and devoted allies by his side as well if things continued on their present heading. And yet, in spite of training for battle, all three children were clearly retaining their youthful (why did Iruka just cringe?) innocence and their ability to love and care for others. It had been a long time since the aging warlock had felt so optimistic about their society's future.

* * *

 **Before the A/N, I wanted to give a bit of insight into Dumbledore's character in this fic, specifically how he settled on the third-floor obstacle course protecting the Stone. I'd have put it in the story proper, but unfortunately Dumbledore isn't sufficiently self-aware to recognize what's going on and nobody else has sufficient access to the inside of his head.**

 **If you're anything like me, you've occasionally had an idea that you absolutely loved. It was amazing and brilliant and ingenious and all those other wonderful things. Then you tried to actually put that idea into action, and started running into little problems here and there, things you didn't think about when you first came up with it. You did other things that weren't exactly ideal, but you needed to do things that way to make use of your great idea. Eventually, a clever initial idea was surrounded by a shell of adaptations that were _not_ clever.**

 **Dumbledore started from the idea of hiding the Stone in the Mirror of Erised as he described, and it was a fairly clever idea, but he fixated on that idea as the solution to protecting the Stone and built everything else around it. There were almost certainly ways to keep the Stone safe that were more secure, less labor-intensive / resource-intensive, less dangerous to students, etc., but Dumbledore was too caught up in how clever his defense was and failed to notice when he passed the point when it would have been more practical to scrap the entire concept and take a different approach. His hubris and his difficulty acknowledging that other people might have better ideas and/or information than he does certainly didn't help, either.**

* * *

 **A/N: First off, FYI, I've added some more entries to last chapter's Omake section.**

 **Anyway, short chapter, I know. They'll start getting longer going forward, though a couple will still dip back to a similar length.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Rhymes with Shmaliens" by BovinePirate - It has Xander Harris meeting Jack O'Neil. Let the snarking begin!**

 **Posted 11 March 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 53  
Updated 25 April 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 58  
**


	28. 1-18: Spar

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

As the training session wound down, Professor Dumbledore stood from his chair. "A most impressive lesson, Professor Umino, and quite informative. Now, before you dismiss your students, what do you say to giving them a bit of a show?"

Iruka laughed, immediately understanding what his employer was suggesting. "Sounds good to me. You three, head to the entry area; the Headmaster and I will want full use of the room." Turning to Dumbledore, he continued. "I had Professor Flitwick teach me the Ferrumollia Charm earlier this week, and I've made sure to put it on everything I'm carrying today for the sake of safety."

As the Headmaster strode calmly towards the center of the training area, he nodded. "A sensible precaution, given your apparent fondness for edged weapons. For your information, children, the Ferrumollia Charm was created by Beaumont Stuart in the twelfth century. It acts similar to a localized combination of a Stinging Hex and a Cushioning Charm on the edge and point of a blade, and was created to help wizards of the time hone their swordplay in safety despite practicing with actual blades. I am curious though, Professor, how your people handle safety for such things?"

"It depends on the skill level of the people involved," Iruka replied with a shrug. "If they're relatively inexperienced, they use blunt training weapons; getting hit still hurts and bruises, but that acts as incentive to dodge or block. For those at a higher level, they'll sometimes choose to use live blades, trusting that their opponents will be able to adequately protect themselves. That's especially common in more open spars, since many of our forms of attack can cause quite a bit of damage if they get a solid hit in; you still need to practice, so you just have to rely on your sparring partner's skill."

"Not entirely dissimilar from magical dueling, then," commented Dumbledore, who now stood across from Iruka, both men near the center of the room and facing each other at a distance of around ten meters. As he drew his wand, he spoke. "Perhaps, until we have a better grasp of each others' capabilities, we should begin at a minimal level and gradually ramp up?" At Iruka's nod, the elder wizard bowed, his bow returned by the chuunin. Once both men were again upright, and in a ready stance, he cast.

A single bright-red spell leapt from Dumbledore's wand, heading straight at Iruka. At those distances, though, it was absurdly easy for him to simply lean out of the way. He made sure to leave several extra centimeters of clearance, though; it was inefficient to dodge by more than strictly necessary, and many times the smart move was to dodge by so little that an attack still grazed you, but he didn't yet have enough experience to know exactly where the 'edges' of the spell were. Misjudging a dodge and going down to the very first spell would _not_ be the most auspicious start to his magical combat training.

The next attack was a volley of spells, in several different colors. This time, rather than dodge in place, Iruka began running what would trace a wide circle around his opponent. After evading a few more spells, he decided it was time to start fighting back. His first attack was a single shuriken, on a shallowly-curved trajectory, which was knocked aside by an absent flick of the Headmaster's wand. Until he had a better measure of how spells left the wand, their angles and movements and areas, the chuunin felt it better to keep his distance to buy more time to dodge. Of course, this also gave his opponent more time to defend, but for now both were trying to probe each others' defenses and measure their attacks. Besides, powerful wizard or not, Iruka doubted that Albus's 110-year-old bones would be able to withstand even genin-level taijutsu for long.

After twenty or thirty seconds of trading increasing numbers of spells and bladed weapons, Iruka had made his way around to the pool side of the room. He dashed back in a zigzag pattern, weaving seals as he went, before leaping into the pool and completely submerging himself. Using the concealment provided, the chuunin produced a single water clone, then began forming a cloud of mist to obscure the entire area.

-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-

Albus was curious as to why his opponent had retreated into the water, before a mist like that described at the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match began to form over the pool. Hearing another splash, he cast a quick **Ventus** to disperse the mist and reveal Iruka standing _on_ _top of_ the water. While it was certainly an impressive feat, the question still remained: What had been the point of this move?

The Headmaster's contemplation was broken as the shinobi again began circling him. More of his small blades flew in small groups, but were still easily blocked with shields or wide-area banishing spells. If anything, they seemed somewhat easier to block now than before, and Iruka's speed had dropped fractionally. Perhaps something the man had done was particularly draining or fatiguing?

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Iruka watched, Disillusioned, from where he crouched on the wall. He'd made sure to cast the charm on himself before he and his clone emerged from the water together, and followed up with an immediate Drying Charm on himself, before using the moment when the Headmaster (as he'd expected) used a wind spell to disperse the mist to disguise his leap onto the wall. Now he remained carefully still to minimize his visible presence, and stayed well above the height where spells were striking; it would be fairly pointless to use a decoy only to get hit by an attack that _missed_ said decoy, after all.

Using his connection to his clone, he directed it to continue his previous circling pattern until it was well on the far side of his opponent, though not directly on the opposite side as he still wanted to be able to see Albus's wand hand. Now, he figured, was a good opportunity to see how a wizard would react to someone attempting to close into melee range.

-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-

The cat-and-mouse game continued until Iruka abruptly changed course, now moving swiftly towards Albus in an erratic zigzag charge. Considering the martial arts routines practiced earlier, and the shinobi's use of bladed weapons, he suspected that letting the man get in close would be particularly ill-advised. That said, many saw the Supreme Mugwump's age and presumed that he was a feeble old man. In an instant, a plan formed.

˄  
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The Headmaster continued casting at the clone, but seemed unable to score a hit, until it closed to within striking range. At this point, the older man hesitated. It was only for a split second, but that was a split second too long. The clone swung a kick towards his head, though he intended to pull the blow at the last second to avoid causing injury. To Iruka's surprise, however, Dumbledore smoothly slipped under the kick, which only managed to remove the wizard's tall conical hat. The chuunin realized that he'd been underestimating the physical vitality of the elder man, forgetting how even venerable shinobi often remained far more spry and capable than their appearance would suggest. Still, he had the clone press its attack.

-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-

Ducking beneath the blow, Albus didn't give his assailant time to follow up, instead casting a rope binding spell. At such close range, there was no time to dodge the eagerly seeking ropes that soon had the younger man cocooned from bicep to thigh. That is, until he seemingly collapsed into a puddle of water...

˄  
˂ O ˃  
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Seeing the moment of shock and distraction, Iruka took his opportunity to hurl two handfuls of shuriken. The two were sent out to opposite sides on a wide, arcing path, to bracket their target and require him to defend in two directions at once. Dumbledore, it seemed, was up to the challenge, as a golden dome of light briefly sprang into existence and blocked the incoming blades.

Once the dome vanished, a wave of energy from the Grand Sorcerer's wand left Iruka illuminated in an aura of light that clearly marked his shape and position. Moments later, he felt his Disillusionment falling away, apparently canceled by his opponent's spellwork. The chuunin responded by resuming his run, this time along the wall.

Deciding it was time for a bit of an experiment, the Leaf-nin flashed through more handseals, weaving one of his go-to jutsu.

-――――===ͽ ͼ===――――-

Albus watched as his opponent ran on the wall - and even knowing he could do that, it was still remarkable to watch - and brought his hands together in a series of strange but clearly well-practiced gestures. He readied his wand, suspecting that these gestures may be the ninja's equivalent of wand motions.

Sure enough, he suddenly felt _something_ trying to worm its way through his Occlumency shields. It was subtle, and he suspected that anyone without significant skill in the Mind Arts wouldn't even notice the apparent attempt to warp his perceptions.

Clearly expecting him to be distracted, Iruka once again threw two handfuls of his stellate projectiles. Albus again countered with a dome shield, but less than a second after he released it he felt a combined sting and impact on his chest. Realizing he must have been somehow successfully struck, he lowered his wand and called out, "I yield!"

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Slowing his movement, the younger Professor dropped smoothly back to the floor, and jogged over with a friendly smile. "I take it that your Occlumency caught my attempt at distracting you?"

Albus chuckled. "Indeed," he replied, "though I dare say that it was subtle enough that many would not have been so fortunate. I am curious both about what its effects would have been otherwise, and especially about how you apparently managed to score a hit against me."

"Well, to answer your second question first, I actually cast _two_ Disillusionment Charms."

Glancing down towards his feet, the Headmaster waved his wand and revealed one of Iruka's kunai lying Disillusioned at his feet. "Quite clever, I must say! My attention was so much on your throwing stars that I didn't notice the hidden knife following behind. You saw my response to your first such volley, and judged the timing of your throws to hit me just after my shield dropped. The shield itself would also have made it even harder to see the knife, as the slight distortion left by a Disillusioned object would have been lost in the distortion caused by looking through the shield."

Iruka nodded. "As far as your other question goes, that was a genjutsu, a hypnotic illusion. The particular one I used is called ' _Magen: Jigoku Kooka no Jutsu_ ', which translates roughly as 'Demonic Illusion: Descending Hell Technique'. It creates an illusion of a huge fireball falling from the sky, complete with a feeling of radiated heat. I figured that few things can compel somebody's attention quite like fire, and if the illusion got past your mental defenses your response would tell me about how you'd handle a _real_ fire-based attack."

The Headmaster beamed. "So you decided to probe my defenses in two different ways with one attack; most efficient of you. We'll have to discuss that water golem you used at some point as well - it made for quite the effective diversion. For now, I believe we have students to attend to."

Turning back to said students, Iruka saw all three standing there open-mouthed in amazement. As much as he wished he could manage an innocent look, he knew his smile was more than a little smug. "What, you've never seen a spar before?

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˅

After dismissing a trio of students that were only now beginning to grasp some of what their teachers were truly capable of, the two veteran educators discussed each of the abilities, items, and tactics they'd used during the spar. Both agreed that it would be better to avoid pushing things further until they'd had an opportunity to determine under more controlled conditions how readily various attacks could be defended against. To that end, they arranged to meet back at the Room shortly after the end of term (since both would be much less busy at that point) to demonstrate and test various attacks and defenses.

Before they left, the Headmaster decided to indulge his curiosity and asked Iruka to make another attempt with the same genjutsu. This time, he deliberately allowed it through his Occlumency barriers, and confirmed that it would have indeed been a very compelling distraction.

* * *

 **OMAKE! Okay, not really, just a less-meticulously-researched scene out of chronological order.  
**

Wizard and shinobi were back in the room discussing methods they each could have used during the spar.

"Well," Albus replied, "were I more serious in our little spar I would have begun attempting to restrict your mobility." A lazy flick of his wand created a patch of mirror-smooth ice nearby. "Ice would normally be my first choice for such things, but given the fact that you can stand on water I suspect that you're able to compensate for poor footing?"

Iruka nodded. "It can take a bit more focus, and the level of control required depends on just _how_ compromised the footing is, but in general things like ordinary ice aren't a big problem. Some ninja and ninja animals - I'll explain that later - are able to create chakra-based or chakra-infused lubricants or adhesives, and those often require special techniques or training to deal with."

The Headmaster looked thoughtful. "I know of several potions that could perhaps be similarly effective, but that would require a considerable amount of advance preparation, not to mention being prohibitively expensive to cover any meaningfully large areas. Perhaps... perhaps if I could not make you un _able_ to cross an area I could instead make you simply un _willing_ to do so..." Another wave of his wand and the ice vanished, before the stone extended upwards into razor-sharp blades that looked almost like dry grass.

The chuunin pondered the sight. "That would be a lot more problematic, yeah. I know some people that could plow right through it, their defenses being strong enough that it wouldn't bother them, but I'd have to either avoid it or deal with it somehow. The easiest way..." A quick series of hand seals later he was directing a blob of water from the pool to settle over the spiked area, deep enough to bury the blades.

Albus watched in fascination. "So those different claspings of your hands serve a similar role to wand movements, I take it?"

This was met with a waggled hand. "Sort of. Hand seals help guide the manipulation of chakra. It's theoretically possible to do jutsu without them, like point-casting, but that's the kind of thing that tends to take decades of practice to pull off; you need to learn exactly how your chakra is molded to create the effect, then train yourself to do it without the aid. Other than a few relatively easy or essential jutsu, almost nobody ever bothers to go that far - usually we just work to cut down on the number of seals needed or increase how quickly we can run through them."

"Anyway," the younger man continued, "let me show you one of the jutsu I'd use if I wanted to go more aggressively on offense. There's a reason that illusion I tried during the spar would be believable back home..."

* * *

 **A/N: First, no, this does** _ **not**_ **mean that Iruka can beat Dumbledore in a straight fight. It means that in a fight where he knew more about magic than Dumbledore did about ninjutsu, and could combine the two, he was able to catch Dumbledore off-guard while neither of them were fighting seriously.**

 **Second, regarding the Elder Wand: Sorry to disappoint some of you, but Iruka is** _ **not**_ **its new master. Magic is heavily influenced by intent, and neither participant in this spar was going in with their intent focused on victory; both sought first and foremost to learn, and didn't really care who won. There are countless events that could potentially be argued as a 'defeat', from failing to push through a new law to something as trivial as not getting the prize in a Christmas Cracker, but these do not transfer ownership of the Deathstick. If Iruka had left one of his kunai live, and deliberately used** _ **that**_ **one as his Disillusioned attack, then he would be able to claim the wand because he was able to trick its current owner into allowing him to kill them. He'd also get it if he and/or Dumbledore had taken the spar more seriously and really** _ **cared**_ **about winning.**

 **Third, the Ferrumollia Charm is my own creation (though it may have been partially inspired by the Inheritance Cycle and/or robst's "A Different Halloween"), but the genjutsu Iruka tried to use does come from the anime (who'd have thought filler would actually be good for something?).**

 **I've added a snippet of the later meeting as a pseudo-omake. Black Victor Cachat suggested showing a later spar where the two could be freer with their spells/jutsu, but I decided to go this route for a couple reasons. First was that I'm trying to keep as much as possible of the magic/jutsu used in this fic consistent with and supported by canon sources, and quite simply that would be really hard to do with Albus Dumbledore cutting loose. Second, it would feel too similar to this spar, like I was re-treading the same ground, and I'd rather try and keep my action sequences distinct from each other. Third, there really wasn't a good place I could find to slip it into the material I'd already written without seriously disrupting the flow.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Assassin Wore White" by apAidan - A short fic that makes it obvious why neither Voldemort nor his followers ever targeted St. Mungo's personnel.**

 **Posted 25 March 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 53/54  
Edited 8 April 2018: Added 'Omake'  
Current WIP Chapter: 56  
**


	29. 1-19: Surrey

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Notice: I've updated Chapter 28 to add a little scene at the end.**

* * *

At their first individual meeting since the fallout around the Stone incident, Iruka shared some news with Harry.

"I've done my best to look into if and how you might be able to spend the summer somewhere other than Privet Drive. The bad news is that you're probably stuck there for now." Unsurprisingly, the boy's face fell at this news.

"Apparently," Iruka explained, "there are a series of steps for determining custody of a child in Wizarding Britain: First parents, then immediate family like older siblings, then it starts to get murky. Sometimes the will of the child's parents or previous guardians will specify someone, or a list of someones, but in this case that's no help."

"Magicals get preference over non-magicals, but blood relatives come before relatives by marriage, who come before non-relations, who come before total strangers. If there's a tie, or if there's no obvious choice, the Ministry ends up deciding, and that's where things get really sticky here."

"Apparently your aunt and cousin are your only remaining close blood relatives; everyone else is several times removed. Your parents had a number of close friends listed in their wills, but all of them are either dead or in some way unable or ineligible to care for you. So, after the Dursleys, the next step for guardianship would be your rather distant blood relatives. Of those of age to care for you only two adults, sisters, are alive and not in prison. One of them, unfortunately, was cast from her family for marrying a Muggle-born wizard; it was actually through corresponding with her that I found a lot of this information. Her sister would likely be chosen to take custody of you, but given her family and their political leanings that might not be the best of ideas. Unless, of course, you _want_ to be Draco Malfoy's new foster-brother?"

Iruka suspected that Harry's attempt to turn Slytherin green was _not_ a sign of enthusiasm for that idea.

"Yeah, that's about what I thought. Unfortunately, her husband has the ear of the Minister of Magic and a lot of other influential people, despite apparently bribing and sweet-talking his way out of trouble for following Voldemort. Needless to say, I don't think that would be a very safe or healthy home for you."

"Anyway, the _good_ news is that I intend to make sure the Dursleys at least treat you like a human being this summer. I'll be speaking to them at the end of term to let them know the new way of things, and I'll also be visiting you at least once or twice a week to make sure everything's all right. Does that sound good to you?"

Harry nodded vigorously, clearly fighting back tears. "Thank you, Sensei," he finally choked out.

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At the end-of-year feast that night, Gryffindor won the House Cup by a decent margin, apparently breaking a long winning streak for Slytherin that was likely due at least in part to Severus Snape. As the decorations of the Great Hall took on the red-and-gold color scheme of the house of lions, every table but the snakes erupted in applause while the Potions Professor seemed to be trying to immolate them all with his eyes.

The next afternoon, Iruka met Harry at Platform 9 3/4. He'd sent a letter through the mundane post informing the Dursleys that he'd be giving their nephew a lift that day, and would also be speaking to them afterwards. Harry released Hedwig with instructions to meet him at Privet Drive, before his teacher shrunk both her cage and Harry's trunk.

One side-along Apparition later, Iruka was standing and Harry was dry-heaving in the isolated spot on Magnolia Crescent that the chuunin had now used several times for discreet magical arrivals and departures. Once the young Potter had caught his breath, the two walked somewhat solemnly to #4 Privet Drive.

Harry's gait and carriage changed as they drew closer to his summer residence: His steps showed obviously increasing reluctance, as his form hunched as if trying to become as small as possible. Every aspect of his posture and movements screamed out fear, shame, and reluctance. If Iruka hadn't already known that the Dursleys weren't fit to raise a stink, much less children, this would have made it more than amply apparent.

Finally their destination came into view, distinguished from its neighbors only by the number on the door and the apparently expensive automobile in the driveway. Taking a deep breath and calling on his every reserve of civil professionalism, Iruka pressed the buzzer.

"Probably the boy and his freak teacher." His hearing wasn't spectacular by shinobi standards, but the chuunin still made out the grumbled words of Vernon Dursley from within the house. "Best answer it and get this nonsense over with."

The footsteps that approached the door from within were far too light for either male Dursley, leaving Petunia their likely source. This was confirmed as the door opened to reveal Harry's aunt in all her thin, long-necked, horse-faced sneering glory. Though most of her expression broadcast her disgust and contempt for the wizards at her door, the stiffness of her movements betrayed a hint of fear. Her glance at Harry showed a flash of something unpleasant but too complex to identify, while her brief scrutiny of Iruka seemed to only intensify her disgust towards him. "Well don't just stand about where everyone can see," she snapped curtly, "get in here."

Nothing of note had changed inside the house since his 'visit' back in October. After swiftly closing the door behind them, Petunia led them into the living room with quick, stiff strides. Vernon, Iruka noted, did not bother to rise from his oversized armchair as they entered, nor did either he or Petunia invite them to sit; she merely stood scowling silently behind her husband's right shoulder.

Taking up a position at his student's side, Iruka decided to get things moving. "I am Professor Umino, and as stated in my letter, we need to speak regarding your conduct toward Harry this summer and going forward. I will be blunt: The way you have treated your nephew thus far meets the legal standard of child abuse in many civilized nations, including this one. It was never acceptable, far less _normal_ (he spat the word with thinly-veiled disgust). You may not have actively flogged him, but you used him like a domestic slave, encouraged your son to brutalize him, watched and laughed as he was attacked by dogs, and our school medic found the lasting signs of injuries consistent with abusively rough handling, as well as chronic malnutrition. On top of your attacks against his body, you have done your best to destroy him emotionally, socially, and academically."

"All of this will stop. _Now_."

"Now see here!" Vernon surged (well, struggled) angrily to his feet, his face a distinctly unhealthy shade of red. "I will not be insulted and told what to do in my own home! Especially not by some _freak_! We never wanted the boy, but you freaks forced us to take him in! We've given him a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and food in his stomach. Even tried to turn him into a proper, _normal_ Englishman, but that's clearly a waste of time with a worthless mongrel like him. So what if we made sure to get our money's worth? And of course we disciplined him! The brat is a liar, a delinquent, and a troublemaker; needs a firm hand..."

At this point Vernon trailed off with a look of growing fear on his face, one matched by his wife. Iruka had decided that he'd had quite enough of the man's bigoted vitriol, and allowed a small amount of anger-fueled sakki to leak out towards the Dursley adults. He kept it to a tiny sliver, though; any more and he'd probably send the morbidly-obese civilian into a fatal cardiac event.

"Sit. Down." The chuunin's voice was one of cold command, his face set in a harsh glare. Vernon quickly obeyed, rattling the picture frames on the walls slightly as he sat heavily back into his chair. "You may have spent the last ten years lying to yourselves, to your son, to your nephew, and to everyone else, but you cannot lie to me. I _know_ how you have treated your nephew. I _know_ that your son is a spoiled, obese bully whom you have abetted and encouraged at every turn. I also know that if Harry is not treated with at least a minimum standard of human decency from this day forward, everyone else will _know_ that you kept a child in a cupboard while two bedrooms sat uninhabited. They will _know_ that you gave him a crushing load of chores while you and your son lounged about. They will _know_ that you lavished your son with copious amounts of food, toys, and new clothing, while your nephew was forced to subsist on table scraps and secondhand clothing that barely qualified as rags. They will know and they will wonder how two people could treat a child so _abnormally_."

"And that will be _before_ I come for you."

"This is what will happen: Harry will be given adequate portions of food of the same quality the rest of you consume. He will retain usage of the bedroom he used immediately prior to school. He will be permitted reasonable freedom of movement and contact with his friends. He will be permitted to complete his summer reading and homework, as well as continuing his exercises. He will be given no more or worse chores than are given to his cousin."

"You will not strike him. You will not forcibly manhandle him. You will not attempt to confiscate, hide, or destroy his belongings. You will administer discipline in a fair and reasonable manner. You will speak to him in a civil manner, refraining from epithets such as 'freak'. You will ensure that your son abides by these restrictions as well."

"I will visit at least twice a week to check on him and confirm that these rules are being followed. I _will_ know if they have been broken. I will _not_ always announce the day and time at which I will arrive, nor will my presence always be obvious." At this he drew his wand, taking some vindictive satisfaction at their flinches at this action and their shrieks of terror as he briefly Disillusioned himself (he'd notified the appropriate Ministry office that he'd be doing a few spells in the area that day).

"I can be _anywhere_ ," Iruka said from behind the Dursleys as he shimmered back into view, provoking another pair of shrieks, "and before being a teacher I served as a form of soldier. Do not test my forbearance." Iruka turned to his student with a placid smile. "Shall we get you up to your room?"

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A few days later, after his first check on Harry (all was well, if tense), Iruka was called to the Headmaster's office.

Once the usual greetings, seatings, and refusal-of-sweet-ings were dealt with, Albus spoke. "I received an interesting letter today, through the Magical/Muggle Postal Relay. In it, Harry Potter's aunt Petunia makes some very serious accusations towards you, mostly revolving around attempting to threaten and extort them into giving Harry special treatment. Given the rather extreme nature of these allegations, the fact that they seem outside of my understanding of your character, and the fact that I greatly doubt that young Harry would tolerate such behavior towards his family, I thought it only prudent to ask for your account of events."

"I did make some threats," Iruka admitted, "although most were of a social rather than physical nature. The part about demanding 'special treatment' for Harry though is a shameless lie. Had I been able to find someone decent that could reliably get and hold custody of Harry in place of the Dursleys, I would have done so, but you probably know better than I do the convoluted mess that is child custody in Wizarding Britain." At Dumbledore's frowning nod, he continued. "Much of what Harry and I spoke about in our private sessions is just that - private - but I can tell you that his experience of Potions class this past autumn was what some might call 'a taste of home' for very loose definitions of the word 'home'."

"Iruka, while I cannot share any details - you probably know better than I do the concept of 'need to know' - you must understand that there are very specific and important reasons that Harry remain with his family during the summer holidays. While he need not remain in the house constantly, and could likely leave it after a number of weeks, it is vital that he return there for a period each summer. While the Dursleys may be harsh, they are still his kin, and family takes care of family."

"Albus, while _I_ cannot share any details, you must understand that the Dursleys do not consider Harry family, or possibly even human. From what you told me about your eavesdropping campaign, Headmistress Derwent can confirm my assessment. Harry's treatment at the hands of his relatives was so bad that we should actually be _thankful_ that they never told him about magic." The current Headmaster and former Headmistress (whose portrait had stopped pretending to doze at the mention of her name) looked confused. "If he had known _why_ they were treating him so harshly, he might have tried to suppress the cause." Headmistress Derwent clearly understood and agreed, as she looked positively ill. "I'm certain as learned a man as you is familiar with the work of Newt Scamander?"

Iruka could tell the moment his employer worked out what he was trying to say as the man's face suddenly seemed to do its best to match his snow-white beard for color. His head whipped to the portrait of his predecessor. "Truly, Dilys? He could have..."

"Yes, Albus," the former Headmistress said darkly, "he could have developed an Obscurus."

For the first time in Iruka's experience, Albus Dumbledore looked every one of his one-hundred-and-ten years, and possibly a decade or two beyond. "No wonder you've been so cold to me; I thought it was because of the workload of handling the listening charm, but you rightfully blamed me for what poor Harry has suffered this past decade."

The Headmaster turned back toward his guest. "Newton Scamander may have documented the phenomenon of Obscurials, but his writings could never convey the full reality. To see a child, particularly someone you care for, so tormented and be unable to help... to simultaneously love them and fear them, and know that they are almost certainly not long for this world... It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone. And yet, now I hear that I almost brought that calamity upon Harry Potter... It would seem I owe a number of people some very sincere apologies, Mister Potter most of all. I presume that your _interactions_ with the Dursleys have been to ensure that they treat their nephew properly?" Iruka nodded. "Good. I may pay Petunia a visit myself in order to _enlighten_ her as to what she and her husband nearly unleashed upon themselves. While the risk has mostly passed by now, I would prefer to be absolutely certain that such a thing will not happen again. You may go, Iruka; I have much I need to think about."

Iruka nodded and rose to leave. As he reached the door, he commented, "Next time we talk about my world, remind me to tell you about Sabaku no Gaara. He wasn't an Obscurial, but the similarities... His siblings probably have a good idea how it feels, what you described."

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 **A/N: For those that don't know, an Obscurial is a magical child that's tried to suppress their own magic because of fear or trauma. Basically, this causes a dark force called an Obscurus to form inside the child, occasionally bursting out and wrecking stuff. They pretty much always die young, often after causing a lot of collateral damage. Ariana Dumbledore is one example, and JKR herself has stated that the only reason Harry didn't become an Obscurial was because the Dursleys hid the existence of magic from him. For a more detailed explanation, check out the Harry Potter wiki and/or the movie** _ **Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them**_ **.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "What Are You Doing? (Youth!)" by SpoonandJohn - A funny little fic in which Naruto is denied the ability to become Hokage, and all his friends decide to leave the village, taking various things with them...**

 **Posted 07 April 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 56**


	30. 2-1: Dobby

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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 **Book 2: Umino Iruka and the Hidden Snake**

Several visits later, Harry commented that he hadn't been getting any letters, despite several people's promises to stay in contact over the summer. Iruka checked with Neville and Hermione at their homes, and confirmed that they'd written to Harry but received no response. The teacher assured his students that Harry was fine and wanted to stay in contact, but somehow his mail wasn't getting through, and offered to 'play owl' until the problem was sorted out. He also made sure to send off a missive to Horace Slughorn to notify the man about Harry's difficulties and assure him that any lack of response was unintentional; best not to risk offending someone with such a wealth of powerful contacts, after all.

The summer continued to heat up but Iruka and his four students kept up their exercises, and the chuunin made sure to supervise their training individually during visits when he could. A clue about Harry's missing mail came in mid-July, when Harry reported feeling like he was being watched, and even spotting a pair of eyes watching him from inside a nearby shrub at one point. Unfortunately, he'd been unable to get a clear look at his mystery stalker.

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As July came to a close, all of them gathered at the Longbottom family home for a combined birthday party for Harry and Neville. Iruka himself had Apparated his two students without access to other magical transport, and both Harry and Hermione had spent some time commiserating over how profoundly unpleasant the experience was. The Dursleys had been quite pleased to see Harry go, which the young wizard explained was due to the fact that Vernon had invited a potential client over with his wife for a dinner at which he hoped to make the biggest deal of his career. Given how shameful they considered Harry's very existence, his relatives were glad he'd be elsewhere and even asked that he stay out until at least the following day. Thankfully, Neville and his grandmother had smoothly invited Harry to stay overnight.

In addition to the three current members of S.E.N. and their teacher, the party guests comprised a number of their classmates including all of their Gryffindor yearmates, as well as a couple of Hufflepuff girls that had known Neville for years and the Ravenclaw twin sister of one of Hermione's roommates. Given the fact that he expected the four to begin training together once school resumed, Iruka had also swung an invite for Luna Lovegood so that she could begin getting to know her fellow students and maybe make a few other friendships as well.

All the children had enjoyed themselves greatly, and Augusta (as she had asked Iruka call her outside formal circumstances) confessed to Iruka that it was a tremendous relief to her to see her grandson so much happier and more confident than he'd been a year prior. Iruka gifted the two birthday boys with high-quality calligraphy kits to use with their sealing work. He also told Hermione with a wink that she'd get her birthday gift from him no later than the first Seals class of the upcoming school year; Luna already had a kit she'd been using when Iruka began teaching the Lovegoods about sealing.

It was around dinner time that things went strange. Harry returned from a restroom trip clearly disturbed, and related the story of a visit by a strange house-elf (thankfully while he was washing his hands). Dobby, as the elf gave his name, insisted that " _Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"_ and gave dire but extremely vague warnings about some evil plot aimed at the school. It also seemed that the little being was responsible for Harry's recent mail troubles, and still possessed a stack of intercepted letters.

Based on Harry's description of Dobby's appearance and behavior, the elf was likely being abused even worse than Harry himself had been, and likely belonged to whoever was behind the mysterious plot. Unfortunately, Harry's refusal to avoid the school hadn't deterred his possibly-deranged elfin stalker, who had departed with a look of resolve that likely did _not_ herald anything good.

Both Harry and Iruka agreed that they'd need to keep their eyes peeled for anything amiss, both over the remaining summer and back at Hogwarts. Iruka also promised to warn Headmaster Dumbledore immediately after the party, while Harry used the party itself as an opportunity to share an abbreviated version of the story with Neville and Hermione, committing to discuss the matter in more detail when they could all meet under quieter circumstances during term, assuming the situation hadn't been resolved by then.

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After the party Augusta asked Tilly, the Longbottom house-elf, if she knew to which family Dobby belonged; unfortunately but unsurprisingly, she didn't.

Iruka reported in to Headmaster Dumbledore as soon as he got back to Hogwarts, as promised. When an inquiry to the castle's elves found that they too were unaware of Dobby's family, both Professors were forced to conclude that at present they didn't have enough information to do more than watch and wait. They did, however, instruct the castle's elves to be on the lookout for an interloper matching Dobby's description, and to report any appearances by him to the Headmaster immediately.

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It was around ten the next morning when Iruka walked Harry back to the front door of #4 Privet Drive. Behind that door was a furious Vernon Dursley holding a crumpled piece of parchment.

"Inside. Now!" The obese man was clearly restraining himself from shouting through the open door. As soon as that door had shut behind them, however, his restraint evaporated.

"I should have known it was too easy getting you out of the house yesterday. As if anyone would actually have a party for a miserable little _freak_ like you! You both used that _unnaturalness_ to hide here to sabotage me! Not only did you ruin Petunia's perfect pudding, but the bloody owl that delivered _this_ " he brandished the parchment in his hand "upset Mrs. Mason. You ruined the biggest deal of my career, boy, and so help me-"

Vernon had started moving towards Harry, violent intent clear in every line of his body, while seemingly forgetting Iruka's presence. He got a reminder of that presence in the form of a hand clamping around his throat and lifting him off the floor. It wasn't quite tight enough to completely cut off his air supply, but it did cut off his tirade quite effectively.

"I can assure you that we were nowhere near this house last evening." Iruka's voice was calm, almost casual, as he used his chakra to both boost his strength and anchor his feet. "It's likely that the party-crasher Harry encountered briefly last night caused whatever trouble you experienced here. We are currently investigating where he came from, and would be happy to convey your displeasure at the intrusion should we find those responsible. Now, might I see that parchment?"

The half-afraid-half-angry Vernon feebly passed the item over. Smoothing it as best he could with one hand, Iruka read over the letter from Mafalda Hopkirk, finding it to be a warning notice for underage magic use. He'd have to clear that up on Monday.

"This changes nothing. While it is... unfortunate... that your deal fell through, the party or parties that caused last night's disruption are not here. Attempting to take your misfortune out on your nephew is not an acceptable response. The same rules continue to apply, do you understand?" Iruka's glare produced as much of a nod as someone being held aloft by their neck can manage. "Then I believe we are done here." He let go, allowing the terrified Dursley to crash heavily to the floor.

As they walked away from the dazed man, Iruka turned to Harry. "I'll straighten things out at the Ministry first thing on Monday. This may be just a warning, but we still don't want it on your record for something you had no hand in."

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Vernon's behavior had Iruka worried, so after talking with Harry to confirm that his idea met with his student's approval, he made his way to the home of the Granger family.

The door was opened by a woman, presumably Monica Granger. The petite woman looked to be in her mid-thirties, with brown hair in a bob-cut that framed a kind face from which hazel eyes studied her visitor, shining with a keen intellect. "Can I help you?"

"Mrs. Granger?" She nodded. "I'm Professor Iruka Umino, and I was hoping to speak to you and your husband regarding one of Hermione's friends at Hogwarts. May I come in?"

Hermione's mother blinked in surprise for a moment, before smiling brightly. "Of course. Wendell!" The name was called deeper into the house as she led Iruka in.

"In the kitchen!" A man's voice called back.

"Hermione told us that you saved her from a troll back at Halloween; given what we've read in that book on fantastic beasts, we probably have you to thank for still having a daughter." Her bright smile turned a bit brittle at that. "I can't really think of anything to do or say, except 'thank you'."

The second non-magical home he'd seen in this world showed a stark contrast to Harry's residence. Absent was the sterile, rigid vanity of the Dursley household, replaced by the clutter characteristic of a family home. While there were some photographs in evidence, they showed more than just the house's residents, and they were often stood on or hung between or on the ends of the packed bookshelves that seemed to line almost every significant stretch of wall. These shelves, and the fact that much of the clutter took the form of further books, showed that Hermione was not alone in her love of reading.

"Mum, who was i- Iruka-sensei?" Hermione had partially descended the stairs from the home's upper floor and was clearly surprised to see her teacher. "Why-"

Sensing one of her characteristic volleys of inquiry coming, Iruka cut her off preemptively with a raised palm. They'd been working on calming her tendency to interrogate people rapid-fire without permitting answers, but it was still very much a work in progress. "Everyone is fine; I'm here to talk to your parents about something regarding Harry. I can't tell you more than that right now, not until I've spoken to your parents and to Harry."

Hermione frowned at his response. Well, it was more of a pout actually, but Iruka certainly wouldn't say that where she might hear. Leaving his student to return upstairs, the chuunin teacher followed her mother into the kitchen, where he saw Wendell Granger assembling ingredients into a slow-cooker.

The first thing to draw his eye about Mr. Granger was his hair: It was a very dark blond, but just as bushy as his daughter's, and held in a ponytail that wasn't so much _tied back_ as _forcibly restrained_ (to only a debatable degree of success). Overall, the man was of about average height and build with a long face, receding hairline, and brown eyes that Hermione had obviously inherited.

"Welcome, Professor. I'd offer to shake your hand, but both of mine are a tad occupied at the moment, not to mention covered in various food-related substances. For now, then, I'll just say 'thank you for saving my daughter' and tell you that if you ever need my help, just ask. Oh, and feel free to grab a seat." He waved vaguely to the small dining table nearby.

"As one of her teachers, I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that Hermione has kept us well-informed about the goings-on at Hogwarts. I can't say we were happy to hear about a staff member endangering and outright trying to murder students, but she said it was like a mystery story where you know enough to say whodunnit, but can't actually _prove_ anything. We both appreciate that you and Headmaster Dumbledore were doing what you could to keep Hermione and the other kids safe, it's just unspeakably _frustrating_ to know there's a threat to your child and you can't do anything about it. Thank you again for keeping Hermione and her friends informed, giving them what tools you could to stay safe."

Mrs. Granger chimed in at this point. "Also, as far as the _incident_ at the end of the term, we don't blame you at all. The kids may have made some mistakes, but they were at least well-intentioned, and they _are_ still children. We're hardly going to scold our daughter for caring about other people and trying to help them. For your part, you did the best you could with the information you had. As a wise, if fictional, man once said: 'It is possible to make no mistakes and still lose.'"

Her husband picked back up with an amused smile. "So, now that we're done blathering on, what brings you to our humble abode this fine day?"

After taking a moment to make sure there was nobody listening in, Iruka began. "I'm sure Hermione has told you about her friend Harry Potter?"

Mrs. Granger's expression turned pensive. "Yes, she's spoken a lot about him and Neville. She was suspicious that Harry's home life might not be very good."

Hermione's father chimed in. "From the fact that you're here to talk about him in the middle of summer, rather than the beginning or end, I'm betting she was more right than she realized. I'd also guess that you need help handling things in some way on our side of the divide, correct?"

Iruka nodded. "Yes, Harry's relatives are, to be blunt, abusive. It hasn't been sexual, thank the Sage, and I've certainly heard of worse cases in the physical aspect, but it's still a bad situation. Worse, recent events have left me afraid that the abuse may escalate soon."

"If Harry were an ordinary child," he continued, "law enforcement could handle things, but the laws on the magical side don't actually cover child abuse, and trying to prosecute things on this side would require answering questions about _where_ Harry goes to school. Still, it wouldn't be hard to get Harry's custody taken away from his relatives by the laws on the magical side, but between his celebrity status and the reasons behind it, plus government corruption, there's a strong chance that he'd be given to people that might be even more dangerous to him than his current guardians. What needs to happen, then, is to get Harry away from there without involving unanswerable questions by nonmagical law enforcement or placement by corrupt magical government."

"In other words," Mr. Granger replied over the running water as he washed his hands, "you need to get Harry's custody changed through the nonmagical system. His new guardians would presumably have to know about magic already, to avoid legal trouble later? They'd also need to understand the unique concerns surrounding Harry himself, which also involves information that's not all widely-shared, so you'd need to know you could trust them. What you're looking for, then, is a nonmagical family with a magical child, preferably a child that already gets along with Harry, and that is well-informed about the semi-secret events at Hogwarts this past year. Thus, your presence here."

Iruka was impressed. The man was certainly not at the level of a Nara, but had a sharp analytical mind. That his wife showed no surprise at the conclusions he'd stated showed that she was at least his equal mentally. It was no wonder Hermione was such a brilliant student considering her parents, both of whom he now recalled were a form of medical specialist and thus had to be highly-educated. "That _does_ sum up what brought me here. The whole thing would have to be legally solid, but at the same time kept as quiet as possible. I'll tell a few trustworthy magicals that might be able to help you retain custody if it later becomes known you've taken him in, but I suspect it would probably take some time to lay the groundwork properly."

Mr. Granger turned to his wife, who nodded. "Assuming Hermione is all right with it, not that that's a big 'if', I think we may be able to give you a tentative 'yes', on two conditions: First, you look into arranging whatever magical protections you can for our home; if wizards find out Harry's here some might decide to forego the legal process, either out of misplaced concern or because they mean him harm, and I want my family as safe against that as possible. Second, Hermione has been awfully vague about precisely what it is you've been teaching her and her friends, and we'd like a more detailed explanation."

Iruka gave a resigned sigh. He _really_ should have expected this...

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After Iruka once again gave an overview of his origins and skills, and described the training he was giving their daughter, the Granger parents were satisfied enough to call Hermione down and ask her if she would mind Harry coming to live with them. The enthusiastic hugs they both promptly received gave a rib-creaking demonstration of their daughter's improved physical conditioning.

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 **A/N: It was only after writing the scene of Harry's return to #4 that I realized Iruka was doing an unintentional (on both his part and mine) Francis impression. That, of course, influenced a subsequent bit of phrasing in that scene. And yes, Mrs. Granger (mis-)quoted Captain Picard.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Rewrite" by Silver Pard - a short one-shot about the Nolanverse Joker.**

 **Posted 22 April 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 57**


	31. 2-2: Clout

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises. I should also comment this chapter that neither do I own Schlock Mercenary.  
**

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Augusta had easily agreed to accompany Iruka to the Ministry to help clear Harry's record. While the Adjunct Professor's word alone could well have been enough, neither wanted to risk some officious bureaucrat making a stink and demanding more evidence. Whether because of the clout of the Longbottom matriarch, or just because the people present at the time in the Improper Use of Magic office were actually competent and honest, the incident was soon expunged.

Based on what he'd heard of the Ministry, Iruka suspected the 'clout' explanation.

After a long lunch, aged witch and ninja wizard made their way to the office of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Madam Bones was at the top of the list Augusta composed of those who would likely be willing and able to discreetly help with Harry's custody situation. They'd set up an appointment with her for that afternoon, not knowing how long their business at the Improper Use of Magic Office would take.

Having previously given her his account of the events surrounding the Philosopher's Stone, this was Iruka's second meeting with Amelia Bones. As before, the square-jawed witch had her iron-grey hair cropped short, and wore a monocle along with robes of a cut not unlike his own. Her overall demeanor and mannerisms reminded him of some retired jounin - no longer taking field assignments, but still more ready for action than people might expect. His impression of her at their previous meeting was of a stern, honest woman that took her job with the seriousness it deserved.

"Madame Longbottom, Professor Umino." She greeted them from behind her desk. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"Before we begin," Iruka ventured, "I'd like to ask that the topic of this meeting be kept strictly confidential. You'll understand why, once we tell you about it, but for now we need to keep this as quiet as possible. I assume that this room is secure against eavesdropping?"

Madam Bones shifted slightly, and Iruka heard a faint tap under her desk where her hands were still out of sight. "It is now. Now what is so sensitive and important?" The 'that you need to bother _me_ with it instead of going through channels' was left loudly unsaid.

"We are trying to quietly shift custody of Harry Potter from his Muggle relatives," Iruka replied, "who are abusive and may present a threat to his safety, to the family of his Muggle-born friend Hermione Granger. The reasons we're meeting with you about it are threefold: One, we want to make sure all of the legalities are covered, to avoid leaving an opening for someone to contest the Grangers' custody. Second, we want to get everything done as quickly and discreetly as possible to avoid tipping off those who might interfere or target Mr. Potter or the Grangers. Third, we need to get authorization to ward a dwelling in a Muggle area."

The DMLE Head's already stern expression turned distinctly stormy at the mention of abuse. "Explain. Now."

Her tone grabbed Iruka by a part of his long-reinforced training, causing him to quickly slipped into reporting-to-a-superior mode, and he detailed the tangled knot surrounding Harry's custody and his concerns that Minister Fudge would personally intervene to hand custody over to his 'good friend' Lucius Malfoy. He explained his idea to handle the custody transfer entirely on the nonmagical side, keeping Harry's actual place of residence secret on the magical.

"I can't dispute that your assessment," Madam Bones said at last, "or that your plan is in Mister Potter's best interests, and it doesn't require breaking any laws. Would you or the Grangers mind if I brought in an old colleague to handle placing the wards? Alastor Moody is a retired Master Auror, one of the best this department's ever had; he's also notoriously paranoid, somewhat justifiably given the number of Dark witches and wizards he's killed or captured. Thanks to that paranoia, he also knows more about protecting a home magically than almost anybody else, so he should be able to help put up some solid defenses. It won't be to the level of Hogwarts or one of the old family manors, but it would at least buy time to call for help and try to escape or fight back. As far as discretion goes, he knows the value of secrecy, especially where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers are involved."

Details were hammered out, followed by the filling in and signing of several pieces of parchment. Plans were made to apply a bit of discreet magic to fast-track the Muggle custody transfer paperwork, though it would still take over a week to get through the procedure and bureaucracy. Madam Bones also contacted Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and after passing enough security checks to satisfy even a Kiri-nin got his agreement to help ward the Granger home. Once a (deliberately vague) time had been agreed upon with Iruka's input regarding the Grangers' schedules, the necessary permit was prepared along with a memo to the Improper Use of Magic Office to disregard spellcasting in the area during that window.

She also mentioned that unauthorized portkeys were illegal, but while their creation could incur a significant fine it was only their _use_ that would be detected unless they were made in a Muggle area. Iruka made a mental note to ask Headmaster Dumbledore for an emergency portkey for the Grangers.

Now he just had to talk to Harry.

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Harry had been hesitant at first. Ten years of conditioning told him that he was a burden, an unwanted imposition. It took Iruka the better part of half an hour to convince his student that Hermione and her parents would be happy to take him in. Once he finally accepted the possibility that he could be welcomed into someone's home (even if he still insisted on paying the Grangers back out of his vault), he was unsurprisingly quite eager to move. Iruka hated telling him that because they were trying to keep everything legal and quiet, it wouldn't be until late in the next week before the Grangers could legally take custody of him. He reassured the boy that he'd be visiting frequently in the meantime and keeping him apprised of any developments.

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Alastor Moody was... interesting. His prosthetic eye was certainly odd-looking, and its erratic movements made it clear how he got the nickname 'Mad-Eye'. That it occasionally seemed to be looking inward suggested that it could see through solid objects, not unlike a Byakugan. Such an ability _would_ explain why the maimed man was subtly keeping some distance from Iruka - he presumably saw the ninja's weapons, and wanted to stay out of their easy reach. As far as his attitude went, it wasn't that different from a certain type of veteran shinobi: Some managed to land in the uncomfortable realm of being strong enough to make a lot of enemies without being so strong that most of those enemies were dead. Lower-level ninja, especially those that didn't do much fieldwork like Iruka, were beneath most people's notice, while the true elites like the various current and former Kage generally didn't have many enemies still alive and able to pose a credible threat to them, even discounting the fact that they tended to have other strong shinobi nearby that could back them up.

All three members of the Granger family had been a bit uncomfortable at first in the retired Master Auror's presence, but their discomfort was pushed aside by fascination as Moody and Madam Bones cast a number of various protective spells over their house. Granted, only Hermione and Iruka were able to watch the work that was done from outside, as the two elite law-enforcers had spelled themselves to deflect attention from those without magic. Judging by the looks the DMLE Head gave her former colleague at times, Iruka suspected that a few of the enchantments may have been of somewhat questionable legality, but given who they were intended to protect and against whom, none of the three said anything about it.

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They _almost_ made it through the entire operation without any issues. Unfortunately, as Shinobi Maxim #17 stated, 'The longer everything goes according to plan, the bigger the impending disaster.' On the last visit before he expected to be able to move Harry completely legally, Iruka was about to step out of Harry's room when he sensed a presence just outside the door that was undoubtedly Vernon Dursley. Thinking it odd that the large man would be waiting there, he couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious.

Those suspicions were confirmed the moment Iruka stepped through the door. A weak spike of sakki and a swishing of air heralded an attack aimed towards his head. For a civilian, this could well have caught them off-guard and left them critically injured; for a chuunin-level shinobi, it meant that Dursley's swing with a flat wooden club came to an abrupt stop against the flat of a kunai held in reverse grip.

Vernon's shock at the failure of his ambush was replaced with agony as Iruka snapped a kick into the side of his knee, buckling it in a direction it was never meant to bend. After disarming the howling man, the chuunin leaned in and clamped a hand over his assailant's mouth.

"The only reason you are not going to die today," he stated harshly, "is because the police inquiry would cause too many complications. Now, before you think about causing those complications anyway, remember that you are provably guilty of several very serious crimes, a list to which you just added 'attempted murder'. Drawing the attention of law enforcement will _not_ end well for you or your wife, and that is just on the _non_ magical side. The whole mess could well leak into the news on the _magical_ side, where your nephew is a _beloved national hero_. How do you think they'd react to finding out how you treated Harry?" He could see a fresh dose of fear penetrating into Vernon Dursley's pained expression. "Oh, but it gets worse. As far as many of them are concerned, people without magic aren't really proper people - more like clever, savage apes. By their laws, you and your family have no rights. They could basically torment you with their magic as much as they wanted, and only face the equivalent of an animal cruelty charge. And do you know one of the things they hate most? Non-magical ' _Muggles_ ' like you trying to hurt wizards because they hate magic. Your only hope of living in peace is going to be if nothing that happened in this house _ever_ becomes known, do you understand?" At the man's panicked nodding, he grinned coldly. "Good. Now, we were going to be doing this in a couple days anyway, but I'm moving Harry out today. You and your wife just need to sign a couple pieces of paper, and Harry and I will leave here and never come back."

Iruka stepped back into Harry's room to help his student pack his belongings (and send Hedwig winging her way to Hermione's house) while keeping an eye on a still-supine Vernon whose wife was wailing tearfully over his injured leg. Once Harry was packed, Iruka held the custody transfer papers out to the Dursleys, who quickly signed them while shooting looks of utter hatred at both wizards. A minute later, there were no wizards at #4 Privet Drive.

As they walked to their Apparition point, Iruka could tell that his student was in something of a state of shock. It was understandable, really; a lot had happened in the last few minutes, and there was more yet to come: He'd watched as his uncle, who had bullied and terrorized him for most of his life, had tried to kill the first real adult he'd ever trusted. Said adult had then casually defeated and seriously injured said uncle, someone who had likely represented power and terror for the past decade for Harry. To see such a figure brought low so casually by his unassuming teacher had to be hard for the twelve-year-old to process. Now his aunt and uncle had signed away custody and he'd left their house, his prison, for what could very well be the last time. Despite their decade of mistreatment, it still likely hurt a bit to see his guardians so gladly signing him away. There was presumably the elation of freedom and escape, but this neighborhood was, until a year prior, basically all Harry had ever known. Even if very few of them were actually good, he had to have a lot of memories attached to the area. So that's fading fear, shock, a bit of horror, hurt, awe and joy, and a touch of melancholy; a lot of emotions to process, and that was just what had happened so far. Really, it was a wonder his brain wasn't overheating from all the work.

Now, of course, they were on their way to the Granger house. That meant the excitement and anticipation of seeing a friend, true, but it also meant a host of different emotions about meeting her parents, his new guardians. Would they like him, tolerate him, hate him like the Dursleys did (unlikely), or even maybe come to love him? Would he be a burden? Would he fit in with their household? Iruka knew his student well enough by now to see the questions roiling in his mind.

Shifting Harry's trunk over to rest on his hip (he couldn't shrink it without risking triggering the Ministry's detectors) he gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry," Iruka reassured his student, "I'm sure you'll get along fine with them. The timing isn't exactly what we'd planned, true, but Vernon's actions pushed the timetable up a bit."

"Why did he do that?" Harry's voice was faint, small.

"Power," Iruka answered. "Ever since they took custody of you, all three Dursleys had a lot of power over you. For a man like Vernon, and I've seen plenty of them before, power is one of their greatest cravings. Some rise to high positions where they have tremendous power, but some end up lower on the ladder. They're always aware of the fact that there's someone above them, someone that has power over them, and it chafes worse than sandpaper underwear. To have someone like you available, someone over whom he could exercise near-absolute power, would have been intoxicating for such a man."

"The first problem that cropped up was magic. Ever since last summer, he'd been feeling the threat of magic-users hanging over him. That was a kind of power he couldn't match, couldn't overcome, so it left him scared. He also had to worry about whether _you_ would have that power when you came back, and take his power away. Instead, _I_ took his power away at that first meeting, and I did it inside his home, one of the places where he should feel safest and most secure and powerful. The day after your birthday, he tried to exercise power over you, and I stopped him with an even greater show of power, again making him feel weak and helpless in his own home."

"His fear from that incident kept him at bay, until today. I don't know what tipped the scales, but somehow his hate, anger, and most importantly his need to retake his power overcame his fear of me. Most likely, after killing or incapacitating me, he'd have called in the police and told them I forced my way into his home and threatened him. Then, once I was out of the way, his attention would have turned to you. There's no telling how exactly he would have reasserted his power over you, but the cupboard would probably have been part of it; almost certainly, he'd have tried to keep you from returning to Hogwarts."

Harry's musings on this were temporarily interrupted while he focused on keeping his stomach contents where they were after the Side-Along Apparition to Crawley. Still, by the time they reached the Grangers' home it was obvious that the young wizard had a lot on his mind.

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 **A/N: I was recently re-reading 'Harry Potter and the Rune Stone Path' by Temporal Knight, and found that he/she had already used the idea of quietly changing Harry's guardianship in the Muggle world. I'd honestly completely forgotten about that, though it may have prodded my thought processes a bit subconsciously. In this story, they're taking that approach for somewhat different reasons (although they're still a bit concerned about how Dumbledore might react), but they're acting mostly on the basis of "it's doubtful any Death Eater would be able to trace a transfer of custody through Muggle bureaucracy" and "Malfoy and his ilk won't notice Muggle proceedings and thus won't interfere".**

 **Also, in hindsight I probably drew from 'Harry Five-O' by mjimeyg for the bit about power at the end.**

 **Also also, I'm adding a bit to the A/N after chapter 27 / 1-17 to better explain the mental process of this fic's version of Dumbledore. I'd have put it in the story proper, but unfortunately Dumbledore isn't sufficiently self-aware to recognize what's going on and nobody else has sufficient access to the inside of his head.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Wind Shear" by Chilord - a non-do-over time-travel fic that has Harry using a unique and interesting magical fighting style, and overall well-written.**

 **Posted 6 May 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 58**


	32. 2-3: Meetings

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Wendell Granger answered the door. "Professor Umino? And Harry Potter, I presume?" Both wizards nodded, the younger somewhat timidly. "You're here early, and you have Harry's things; the Dursleys crossed a line and you couldn't leave him there any longer." It was not a question.

Iruka nodded again. "Vernon tried to brain me with some kind of flat club..."

"A cricket bat," Harry nervously interjected.

"A 'cricket bat', apparently. Needless to say, I objected rather forcefully, and felt that the Dursleys presented too much of a risk to Harry's safety to leave him alone with them. I made sure they signed the paperwork before I left, though it'll still be at least a day or two before it's processed. Harry can stay at a friend's house until then, at which point he can live with his new guardians; conveniently enough, he'll already be with them." Iruka's serious expression morphed into a slight smile at the last sentence.

"Well, don't stand out there all day. Hermione! Company!" Mr. Granger's face took on a look of mischief.

Hermione came down the stairs. "Who is it Da- HARRY!" She was suddenly hugging her friend after a near shunshin-speed dash. Stepping back to simply grip him by the shoulders, the floodgates opened. "Are you all right? What _happened_? Is something wrong? Did your uncle do something? Are you staying?" Harry's bewildered look combined with the chuckles of the two adults present finally reached her. After giving both men a somewhat sheepish glare, she turned back to her friend. "Honestly!" she huffed, "Anyway, since you've brought your trunk, I can only _assume_ you're here to stay rather than just visit. Come on, I'll show you around." She grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him off, giving an incredibly detailed tour of the house and its surroundings complete with a constant stream of information and anecdotes.

"Let me guess," Iruka said dryly as he stepped through the doorway, "first time having a friend over?"

Wendell nodded, somewhat wistfully. "While the overprotective caveman in me is less than thrilled that they're both boys, I still can't thank you enough for introducing Hermione to her first real friends. Monica and I have never seen her this happy, this eager, aside from maybe when she first found out she was going to a school for magic. She was so happy to get the opportunity to learn something new and special, and she hoped that her magic was why she'd had so much trouble connecting with her peers and that she'd find others like herself at Hogwarts. We suspected that it wouldn't be that easy, but neither of us could bring ourselves to dampen the joy and hope we were seeing in our daughter."

"Unfortunately, her first two months at Hogwarts were pretty much like her prior schooling, socially at least. Actually, that's not quite true; she'd previously gone to day schools, so even if she was lonely during the school day she could at least come home to a loving environment. Being off in Scotland like that left her probably lonelier than she admitted in her letters, and that's before factoring in the bigotry and culture shock she was facing."

Iruka nodded solemnly as his host led him to what would now be Harry's room to deposit his student's possessions. "I don't know if she told you, but even before Halloween I'd been planning to either approach her myself or ask Minerva McGonagall to do so in hopes of giving her some advice to help better connect with her peers. Once she saw some of my abilities that night, I decided to go one step further and invite her to train with me as I'd intended to invite Harry and Neville. They were easily the most socially isolated students I knew of, and it was pretty clear all three had led fairly lonely lives to that point. Back in Konoha, we consider our bonds with others to be vitally important, and my biggest goal was to help those three find bonds of their own. I was an orphan myself, and a bit isolated as a child, so I reached out to the students I saw that needed it to hopefully give them a happier childhood than mine or some others I've known."

"It didn't happen overnight, but it was still hugely gratifying to watch three lonely children slowly start reaching out to each other, desperate for the bonds they'd been unable to form previously but at the same time so afraid of being hurt. Now, though, anyone messing with any of those three will soon find the other two after them, and they'll probably get even closer as time goes on. What form that takes, well, you might be taking in your future son-in-law, or Hermione's adopted brother. There's already some love there, it'll just take time, probably several years at least, to find out whether it'll be friendly, familial, or romantic. No matter what form it takes, I can tell you from experience that those who've suffered loneliness are often the most loyal and dependable companions you'll ever find."

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Before leaving that day, Iruka advised his students to avoid mentioning Harry's changed circumstances, particularly Harry in his correspondence with his parents' old acquaintances. Both children understood the importance of secrecy for security.

Harry settled in well at the Grangers. There were some inevitable bumps along the road, but things were soon well on their way to establishing a new and much healthier 'normal' for Harry's home life. For starters, he was now in a proper _home_ , rather than just a residence.

A couple of days after his move, both Harry and Hermione had received their Hogwarts letters. Iruka's next visit had found his two students had very different reactions to their subsequent Diagon Alley encounter with Gilderoy Lockhart, who would apparently be Hogwarts' new Defense teacher. Hermione was starry-eyed at having actually met an author in person, and also showed signs of her first schoolgirl crush (much to her parents' amused exasperation). Harry was far less pleased, having been effectively manhandled into an unwanted publicity photo-op despite his deep loathing for the entire 'Boy-Who-Lived' phenomenon. It was clear that this difference of opinion had created a degree of tension between the two, but that quickly began to fade once it was pointed out to Hermione how uncomfortable their soon-to-be Professor had made her friend by harping on his unwanted celebrity status. While trying to assure Harry that she was certain Professor Lockhart had had only the best of intentions, she did admit that he was a bit too forward and pushy. Iruka promised to explain to his new colleague about Harry's dislike of the spotlight.

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"Ah, Minerva! Do you have a moment?" It had taken weeks for Iruka to catch the perpetually-busy Transfiguration Professor / Head of Gryffindor / Deputy Headmistress at a time when she wasn't in the middle of some important task. "I'd been hoping to speak to you on a somewhat sensitive matter."

Minerva gave him a friendly smile. "I do, in fact. Shall we speak in my office?" At her colleague's nod, the two headed down the corridor, making small talk as they went.

Once they were seated behind closed doors, Iruka brought up the reason for his visit. "Minerva, before the end of term, do you recall three of your First-Years coming to you with a warning about an attempt against the Philosopher's Stone?"

"I dare say it would be hard to forget," she replied, "three children in their first year here that somehow knew about the direst secret in the castle, babbling it in three-part disharmony at the tops of their voices in the middle of the corridor. Perhaps you might shed some light on _how_ they came to know about the Stone?"

Her stern gaze was impressive, but he'd been glared at by the Third Hokage. "A lot of it was their own research into odd clues they'd picked up. Perhaps you might shed some light on why you didn't investigate their warning at all?"

Minerva recoiled, her face a mixture of shock and outrage. "The Stone was perfectly safe!" she responded heatedly. "I should think that if Albus's assurances on the matter were insufficient, you would at least accept the fact that poor Quirinus failed to breach its defenses as proof. All those three were accomplishing with their shouting was causing a disturbance and spreading secrets that weren't theirs to know in the first place. I am sorry that Messrs. Potter and Longbottom were injured in their ill-conceived attempt at intervention, but perhaps it will serve as a lesson that adult matters are best left to adults to handle. They'd have been fine if they'd listened when I told them to drop it."

"They might be fine," Iruka conceded, "but I would most likely be dead." His calm, matter-of-fact tone made the words hit all the harder, and Minerva deflated somewhat in bafflement. "Albus and I were already quite certain that Quirrell was the one responsible for the attack on Harry during his first Quidditch match," at her confused look, he gave a vague wave of his hand to indicate that he'd explain later, "and that he was attempting to steal the Stone. Given the fact that he was apparently drinking unicorn blood to sustain himself, we knew he must be getting desperate, which made him an urgent danger that had to be dealt with. Lacking proof, we decided to bait him into acting when we'd be able to catch him in the act."

"That was why Albus was out of the castle that evening," he explained, "so that Quirrell would think the coast was clear. My role would be to conceal myself outside the Stone's corridor, to keep him from leaving or to intervene if he was using a student as a hostage or the like. Albus would return to the castle later in the night, and confront Quirinus himself. That plan went sideways when I found out that Harry's scar was aching, and that it had been doing so off and on all year. A curse mark like that, I'm sure you can guess what I inferred about Quirrell's motives?"

It took a few thoughtful moments before Minerva's eyes widened in horror. At her shaky nod, he continued. "I felt that if he was trying not just to save himself, but to somehow bring back He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, we couldn't risk leaving him to his own devices, especially if his master was somehow aiding him. With Albus not returning to the castle for a while yet, the only option was to intercept Quirrell. That was why I sent three students I trusted and that already knew something about the Stone to find you and tell you I needed backup."

"I was able to make it past the obstacles you and the others placed there," he said, "but Quirrell was apparently able to use magic wandlessly, and he caught me off-guard. Albus's defense was still frustrating him, but being helpless in the presence of an increasingly-agitated Dark wizard isn't exactly the safest situation. Had it not been for Harry's intervention, I honestly have no idea how it would have turned out."

Minerva slumped slightly in her seat. "End of term is always a hectic time period, and I'd had a long day, so I wasn't exactly at my best. Those three were so frantic, I could hardly make out anything they were saying. I admit, my first reaction was akin to 'I am too tired and busy to deal with this,' and my second was 'These children shouldn't even know about this'. James Potter and his friends, you must understand, were inveterate pranksters and makers of all sorts of trouble, and it's likely that I allowed memories of his father to color my perception of young Harry. In the end, I drove the trio off with threats of detention or worse without truly hearing them out, too caught up in worry that they'd go poking into the forbidden corridor if I didn't scare them off it. To think that it was that very act that drove them into doing so..."

"It sounds like mistakes were made all around," Iruka commented, "and I'll be sure to explain to those three the importance of clear communication once school starts back up."

His hostess nodded. "And I shall try to be more attentive to the concerns of my students. Between this and the fiasco with Severus, it is clear to me that I need to listen more open-mindedly when a student speaks."

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A week later saw Iruka at the pre-start-of-term Staff Meeting. Much of it was the same as the previous year's, though due to the new influx of first-year students he found himself scheduling some additional class sessions. These would be intended for new beginners to fuuinjutsu, giving them a class to start from scratch rather than dropping them straight into a group that had already been practicing for a year. Students could attend any of the classes as they wished, so diligent new students might have more chance to catch up while existing pupils that were struggling could go back over the basic lessons.

There was also an entertaining moment where Severus Snape was congratulated for his students' remarkably high scores on their Potions O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams the past year. Iruka couldn't help but feel a bit of vindictive amusement at seeing the dour head of Slytherin struggling to decide between being proud of the accomplishment or angry at the indirect reminder of being forced to teach properly and impartially.

The other major change from the previous year, other than the absence of a lethal forbidden corridor, was the new Defense Professor. Even setting aside the negative impression he'd gotten from Harry's described encounter, Iruka was distinctly unimpressed by Gilderoy Lockhart who was, as far as he could tell, a pompous buffoon. The man shamelessly preened at even the slightest hint of attention or an audience, and took every opportunity to wax poetic about his heroic exploits. A seed of doubt was growing in the chuunin's mind about those exploits, though: Lockhart didn't move like the seasoned warrior he claimed to be, didn't show an awareness of his surroundings.

For shinobi and those in similar professions, it was an essential skill to be able to assess the combat ability of those you met, as everyone was both a potential enemy and a potential asset. Skilled ninja could learn to suppress the subtle tells that would differentiate them from a civilian, but it was a constant cat-and-mouse game between those learning to suppress their tells and those looking to spot tells even when imperfectly suppressed. Either the famed author was also a highly skilled actor, or he wasn't nearly as capable as he claimed. Given how loudly and often he _was_ claiming such prowess, it seemed particularly unlikely that he'd be simultaneously trying to appear harmless. The only possibilities Iruka could think of thus far were either he _did_ have some reason to act the fool, or he hadn't actually carried out the heroic acts he was claiming. Perhaps he was acting as a glamorous public front for a less photogenic hero?

Regardless, after the meeting wound down, Iruka approached the man. "Professor Lockhart, could I speak with you a moment?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Umino, was it? Fascinating to see such a previously-unknown branch of magic being taught at Hogwarts, and from a mysterious far-off land no less! Of course, I saw something similar used by the shamans of Malaysia..."

"I'll have to look into that," Iruka interrupted what would likely be another long-winded anecdote before it could build momentum, "but what I really need to speak with you about is Harry Potter."

"Too shy to ask for his autograph yourself, eh? Never fear, I'll speak to him once term starts and sort something out for you! I'm sure young Harry and I will be spending a great deal of time together; the lad needs a mentor when it comes to properly managing fame and public image, after all."

"I'm afraid you have it somewhat backwards, Professor. I spoke to Harry recently and he was less than pleased at having been conscripted into that press photo in Flourish and Blotts. While you may enjoy your fame, Harry is a very private young man and prefers to avoid the spotlight, especially given the fact that people seem to forget that the event which made him famous also cost him both his parents."

The expression on Lockhart's face was probably meant to look wise and solemn, but landed closer to the vicinity of 'constipated'. "Yes, such a tragedy, a promising young couple cut down in their prime. Truly, fame comes at a terrible price."

Did he just compare his own work to Harry's loss? That... that had to be the most insensitive attempt at sensitivity Iruka had ever heard. "Yes, well... In any case, I'd just ask that you respect Harry's wishes and his privacy. Please just treat him like any other student, don't single him out or call attention to him unless it's for something he does here at school."

"Of course, of course," the Defense teacher replied, "we all need time to just relax and be ourselves after all, especially at such a tender young age." Somehow, Iruka didn't think it was going to be that easy.

Working to hold up his end of the deal with Amelia Bones, Iruka had begun teaching classes at the DMLE on first aid and emergency field medicine. They were large classes, with all of the department's trainees and any staff not currently busy on an assignment; even Director Bones and Head Auror Scrimgeour were participating. The rationale was: Any of them might need this at some point, so all should learn it. A secondary session had been arranged to handle those personnel that couldn't attend the main class. Several Healers and Healer trainees from Saint Mungo's were also in attendance.

The first class session had gotten a bit awkward, as several of the 'students' scoffed dismissively at the "worthless Muggle healing". Most of the doubters changed their tunes after Alastor Moody came to the second lesson and berated them for a good ten minutes straight, complete with detailed graphic anecdotes about several of his scars and how he could have benefitted from these techniques, along with reminders of several friends, comrades, and innocent victims he'd lost over his career who might have been saved. Needless to say, all but the most die-hard bigots shut up and began seriously trying to learn. Judging by the unimpressed looks Bones and Scrimgeour were giving those remaining holdouts, their prospects for promotion had probably just dropped a bit. It also seemed that many of their colleagues were thinking that they'd rather avoid being partnered with the bigots; after all, in a dangerous profession one hopes one's partner will do everything possible to help if they're injured.

Iruka also spent some time with the DMLE quartermaster working out the types and quantities of supplies for field first-aid kits. Mundane kits could work, but many of the supplies they contained were pretty superfluous for magicals. Why bother applying antiseptic cream and an adhesive bandage to a small scrape when an **Episkey** is faster and more effective? Besides, the department's tight budget would take less of a hit buying things in bulk rather than pricier pre-made kits, and the kits themselves could be enchanted with expansion and Featherlight charms to make it easy to carry ample supplies even on a long foot patrol.

The lessons would continue well into the fall term, scheduled around Iruka's work at Hogwarts, but both he and the leaders of the DMLE were talking about another round of classes the next year, to teach new hires and new trainees and to refresh everyone else.

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 **A/N: I realized a while after writing this that the bit about Snape being both happy and angry about the improved Potions marks is at least inspired by "Ah, Screw It!" by mjimeyg.**

 **The scene where Iruka confronts McGonnagal came about because of a discussion with a reviewer that wanted a clearer idea of how and why she turned away a request for aid from another Professor. I will admit to that particular plot point being due in part to me forcing things - Hagrid and the four Heads of House showing up together to deal with Quirrellmort would have been a tad anticlimactic, I don't want Iruka's influence fixing everything, and I really wanted to have Harry's confrontation with Quirrellmort (mostly to show a more realistic aftermath and handling thereof).**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Diversion" by Madrigal-in-training - a fun little one-shot of Naruto escaping Akatsuki's clutches by... _unconventional_ means.**

 **Posted 20 May 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 59**


	33. 2-4: Additions

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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It was the first Saturday of the new term, and Iruka was waiting in the Come-and-Go Room. While the configuration was mostly like he'd used for training the previous year, a new section had been added: At the other end of the straight wall that held the entry area there had previously been only a blank stone wall. Now, in defiance of the geometry of the adjoining corridor, there was a rectangular room several meters tall and across but over twenty meters deep. Its floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of rough wood, and a set of thick wooden posts with circles of various sizes painted on them were set in tracks on the floor running the room's length. Just inside this addition sat several cases of shuriken and kunai, some of which were blunt practice models.

As he waited for his now four students to arrive, the chuunin reflected on the week so far.

The Sorting had been about like the previous year's. Iruka had noted Luna being sorted into Ravenclaw (hardly surprising given her inquisitive mind) and Ginny, the youngest Weasley child, joining the rest of her family in Gryffindor. After the meal, Professor Lockhart had been introduced, prompting much swooning (not all of it female).

There had been a great deal of talk about an incident at King's Cross Station. Apparently, the magical platform from which the Hogwarts Express left (it was a sign of how inured to Wizarding Britain's insanity Iruka was becoming that he barely twitched at it being numbered nine-and-three-quarters) was separated from the rest of the (otherwise non-magical) station by a brick wall that allowed people to pass through and onto the Platform. In what according to the rumors was an unprecedented event, that barrier had suddenly and inexplicably closed, functioning only as an ordinary brick wall. Ministry personnel had struggled with it for some time, and eventually resorted to a series of short-range Portkeys to move the growing backlog of travelers and families over. All of this had later been more-or-less confirmed to Iruka by Harry, who had apparently been unfortunate enough to be the first person to bounce painfully off the barrier.

The door to the Room opened to admit three second-year students who were keeping themselves slightly apart from a blonde first-year that skipped happily into the entryway.

«Good morning, Iruka-sensei!» Luna chimed brightly, giving him a small wave. The other three looked at her in confusion.

"Good morning, Luna," Iruka replied with a warm smile, "and please stick to English for now. We can work in language lessons later if people want." He was not at all surprised to see a familiar gleam in Hermione's eyes at that. She'd not been a frequent attendee of his language tutoring, mostly because she was so focused on her magical studies, but it would seem that this was too good an opportunity for her to pass up.

"Now that you're all here, I'd like to welcome you all back, or simply welcome you to Hogwarts in Luna's case. Speaking of Luna, I hope you three have introduced yourselves to her?" The second-year S.E.N. members looked a bit sheepish. "Well then, perhaps you should all start with that; your names, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future."

Luna again smiled broadly at everyone. "Hello, my name is Luna Lovegood. I like animals, my family, and pudding; I dislike people being closed-minded; my hobbies are learning new things and helping my Daddy with the Quibbler, and my dream is to become a Healer and find new ways to help people."

Harry was the first to reply. "Hello, Luna, my name is Harry Potter. I like my friends and loved ones, and treacle tart; I dislike my fame, and people who hurt others; my hobby is flying on my broom, and my dream is to have a world where my precious people and I can be safe from people like Voldemort."

Hermione took Neville's flinch at the name as an opportunity to speak next. "My name is Hermione Granger. I like books and learning new things; I dislike bullies and bigots; my hobby is reading interesting books and my dream is to show that Muggleborns can be good witches and wizards too."

"Hi, Luna," Neville said a bit shyly, "my name is Neville Longbottom. I like my friends and quiet places; I dislike Death Eaters and people that look down on those without magic; my hobby is working with plants, and my dream is to find a way to heal my parents."

"Well done, all four of you." Iruka could see that the barriers between Luna and the others weren't anywhere near completely gone (well, at least on the trio's side; Luna didn't really _have_ barriers), but that was to be expected. Spending time together was the only real way to bring those walls down. "We'll be mostly picking up where we left off last year, but there'll be a bit more of an emphasis on combat techniques than before. After what happened in June, your guardians and I have agreed that it would be best to focus more on helping you protect yourselves from attack. Go ahead and get changed, then come join me on the mats."

A few minutes later the quartet of students had all returned. "For those of you that have trained here before, you may have noticed a new addition." He motioned towards the addition and led them over to it. "Can any of you guess what this area is for?"

"It looks like a target range," Hermione commented, "is it for practicing our spell accuracy?"

"Good observation Hermione, and good thinking. While we could and probably will use it to practice spell accuracy at some point, for now it's mostly for demonstration and later for practicing something else." With a grin, Iruka stepped into motion, and his arms _blurred_. A moment later, a large number of loud _thunk_ sounds announced the many pieces of sharpened steel that now protruded from the target posts. "One of the things I hope to get you started on this year is buikijutsu, weapon techniques. If we can get far enough, I may be able to begin teaching you shurikenjutsu as well - that's techniques using shuriken, those star-shaped blades, and other thrown weapons. Before you can learn to throw weapons, though, you'll need to learn how to use them, and even that comes after learning how to properly and _safely_ handle, carry, store, and maintain such weapons. Today we'll be mostly going over the safe handling rules and methods, but first," he said bringing his hands together with a clap, "warm-ups!" He stepped back onto the running track and adopted a grin he'd adapted from the Sixth Hokage. "Time to start running, my cute little students..."

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Lessons continued, both official and unofficial, as the fall semester fell into its usual Hogwarts rhythm (a syncopated 7/4 beat, for those that are curious). Interestingly, it seemed that Iruka wasn't the only member of staff looking to give extracurricular lessons: Harry reported in a private session during the second week of term that Professor Lockhart had approached him after class and offered to teach him about how to handle fame, celebrity, and public relations.

In spite of the poor impression both had of the Defense Professor, Iruka still urged Harry to consider the offer. Even if the man were utterly useless at magical defense (something his classes so far had suggested), he _was_ a celebrity and might be able to give the young Gryffindor advice that the chuunin was ill-equipped to provide. After all, while "kill or maim any foreign ninja that disparages you" might have been reasonably solid PR in the pre-Fourth-War Elemental Nations, it probably wouldn't work quite as well in Wizarding Britain. Of course, given the somewhat seedy vibe coming from the immaculately-groomed Lockhart, Iruka intended to speak with the Headmaster about setting up a couple of discreet monitoring charms to make sure any private lessons stuck to appropriate topics.

That inquiry, as well as questions about whether Gilderoy Lockhart was actually qualified to teach Defense, were why the chuunin was now approaching the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. It leapt aside as usual, and he ascended the revolving staircase to his employer's door.

"Welcome and good morning, Iruka! Lemon drop?" Iruka refused the offered confection but accepted the gestured invitation to sit. "I take it that you have come here for reasons beyond rescuing me from the endless drudgery of parchmentwork?"

"Yes, I was hoping to ask you for a bit of help. You see, Professor Lockhart has offered to give Harry some lessons on how to handle his fame and control his public image. I've encouraged him to accept, since it would be useful material for him to know; it's not like he can simply stop being famous, after all, and if you're not careful fame can easily turn into infamy. You were already an adult when you became famous, so you had the opportunity to learn and adapt to it, but Harry's still just a child and I'm hoping this might help him to avoid mistakes that could cause him lasting harm in the public eye."

"Where you come in," the chuunin continued, "is my hope that you could set up monitoring of any such tutoring sessions as you monitored me last year. Beyond simple due diligence, something about Professor Lockhart doesn't feel entirely right to me."

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he thought. "A discreet listening charm or two wouldn't be difficult. I'm sure one of my predecessors' portraits could be persuaded to handle the monitoring. Some of them do get rather bored at times. I am somewhat concerned about causing Harry's fame to go to his head if he spends too much time with Professor Lockhart, but I am sure that you and his friends will help keep his feet firmly on the ground, and besides that your point about his public image is well made. Had I the time, I might offer to advise him myself, but alas my numerous responsibilities would make such a time-consuming endeavor rather difficult to schedule."

"Thank you, Albus," Iruka replied. "On a related note, I am beginning to develop concerns regarding Professor Lockhart's ability to effectively teach Defense, and was hoping to ask you about his qualifications..."

The Headmaster's wistful smile fell away. "I am afraid that it is rather likely that Gilderoy's actual qualifications for the Defense post are slim or non-existent. Before you direct your outrage at me, please permit me to explain. As with our... less than ideal History of Magic Professor, there are certain considerations and complications surrounding the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Firstly, we have of late been unable to retain any Defense Professor for more than one academic year, and none have later returned to the post. Many believe, although it has not been proven, that Lord Voldemort placed some sort of curse upon the position at some point in the past. Because of this rumored curse, many potential candidates avoid the position out of fear."

"With few candidates of quality, if any, I am often forced to choose among a poorer selection of options. While I could simply reject all of them, there are ways in which the Ministry can insert a person of their choosing into any Hogwarts vacancy which the Headmaster is unable or unwilling to fill. Given Lucius Malfoy's influence with Minister Fudge and his position as head of the school's Board of Governors, I am left with a choice between selecting a subpar but inoffensive teacher and permitting one who might well be a danger to their students, either directly through their actions or indirectly through the influence they exert on impressionable young minds. Further complicating matters is that I must be able to justify my new hire to the Board if pressed, and thus I am at times forced to employ a more impressive individual over a more competent one."

"Having access to Gilderoy Lockhart's records from his time as a student here, and recalling him as he was then, I am well aware that his skills with magic are average at best in spite of a great deal of apparent potential which he sadly never put forth the effort to fulfill. In fact, I find it quite likely that the man is a fraud to at least some degree, at least inasmuch as I sincerely doubt that he personally achieved any of the feats he claims in his books, save for such things as the Most Charming Smile awards. I personally know a couple of individuals who were in the right place at the right time with the correct skills and temperament to be the actual parties behind certain of his tales, but in my correspondence with them they have claimed no involvement in his supposed feats. Whether this is the truth or not is yet unclear."

"All that said, the man's public image is impressive enough to hold off any questions by the Board, and the precarious nature of such images that you mentioned earlier should ensure that he remains on his best behavior around the eager eyes and ears and notoriously loose lips of our student body. It is also far from unlikely that the supposed curse, if it exists, might act upon him in such a way as to cause a revelation of the truth behind his glittering persona."

"I see," Iruka replied at last, "and I can't really fault your reasoning. Would I be correct in guessing that this is at least a part of why you agreed with my plan to incorporate more combat-focused training for Harry and his friends?" The Headmaster nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best to give them as many tools as possible to survive any future dangers. I'd also ask that you send me a short list later of books you'd recommend I point them towards to self-study defensive magics, since I don't really know that much about it myself. In any case, I'm afraid that's all I had, so your reprieve from tedium is unfortunately at an end." Both men shared a wry chuckle as the chuunin let himself out.

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 **A/N: Not a lot of action this chapter, I'm afraid. Things'll pick up a bit next chapter though, I promise.  
**

 **To guest reviewer Leslie: I am not myself a teacher, but both of my parents were, along with two grandparents and a bunch of uncles/aunts/cousins/friends/ancestors. Needless to say, I have a great deal of respect for educators.**

 **In response to another guest review: Yahoo! My first anonymous troll review! Achievement unlocked, milestone passed, et cetera.**

 **EDITED TO ADD: Thanks to everyone for your reviews and support! I try to respond in at least some way to reviewers, but I felt like continuing to send generic form-letter PMs to frequent reviewers wasn't really doing more than bloating their inboxes. From now on, I'm going to mostly keep review responses to new/infrequent reviewers and those reviews for which I have more to say than thanking the reviewer.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Against the Dying of the Light" by Akatsuki210 - She follows the Doctor everywhere, it seems, but nobody sees her but the TARDIS, which knows that she's as much a woman as it is a phone booth.**

 **Posted 03 June 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 61**


	34. 2-5: Day of the Dead

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The early fall term continued without major incident. As is always the case, there were still minor annoyances. Harry had complained bitterly about Draco Malfoy's father shamelessly buying his son a position as Slytherin House's new Seeker in Quidditch. Iruka pointed out that even with such superior brooms, the green-and-silver team would be fielding an untested rookie in a key position, one whose skills were likely not the best of those available given the fairly large bribe that six brand-new top-of-the-line brooms represented. The superior brooms would probably give the rest of the Slytherin team an advantage, but that was offset by the fact that their players tended to rely more on dirty play than actual skill. Gryffindor's entire team was made up of returning players, all of whom were said among the staff to be some of the best currently at Hogwarts. The match between snakes and lions would be one of superior equipment versus superior skill and teamwork.

One of the new Gryffindor first-years was being a bit of a pest as well. Apparently, Colin Creevey was thoroughly starstruck and was constantly following Harry around with a camera. Twice already the members of S.E.N. had needed to use the three second-years' superior knowledge of the castle to lose their shutterbug tail en route to weekend training. Seeing how uncomfortable the whole situation was making Harry, Iruka offered to speak to the boy after the next beginners' fuuinjutsu class; as with many of those not raised around magic, the enthusiastic first-year was attending Iruka's lessons. He'd already had to forbid the child from bringing out his camera during his classes (as had several other professors). As with Professor Lockhart, when the young Gryffindor was told that Harry was a very private person and preferred to avoid attention, and that his behavior was making the object of his hero-worship uncomfortable, he agreed to back off. Unlike Lockhart, Colin was clearly sheepish and apologetic about the whole matter. Hopefully the lesson would stick and encourage the rather hyperactive little boy to curb his enthusiasm somewhat.

Hermione's birthday was celebrated in the Room with S.E.N., Iruka hand-delivering a card, gift, and letter from her parents. They saved the cake for _after_ training to avoid unpleasantness.

Near the end of October Harry reported that, due in part to a run-in with an irate Filch, he'd committed to attending the party for Sir Nicholas's five-hundredth deathday on Halloween. While not especially sad to avoid a large celebration on what he now knew as the anniversary of his parents' deaths, he was also less than eager to spend that evening surrounded by a morbid celebration _of_ death. The rest of S.E.N., including Iruka, had quickly vowed to attend with him out of a combination of solidarity and curiosity.

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Even before the five had arrived at the party, Iruka had placed warming charms on everyone to combat the chill caused by the presence of so many ghosts. All five were sticking close together to ward off both the cold that still made it through and the increasingly dismal atmosphere created by the eerie icy blue flames of the torches. The grating, screeching undead equivalent of music didn't help matters any.

The room containing the party itself was as cold as a meat locker, though that clearly hadn't saved the food laid out on a long table, all of which was thoroughly rancid or otherwise ruined. They watched several ghosts pass through the table with their wide open mouths hitting one or more items. Hermione suggested that the food had been allowed to spoil in order to produce as strong a flavor as possible, even if that flavor was utterly disgusting. Iruka called Flippy to bring their living group of partygoers a small table of more edible food from the kitchens, which she did before departing in a shivering hurry.

As fascinating as a ghost party was to see for the first time, once the novelty wore off it became a fairly standard high-society party - in other words, S.E.N. mostly stood around feeling bored and uncomfortable while trying to find a good reason to leave. Thankfully Luna helped relieve the gloom a bit with her eternally sunny disposition.

"Hello, Lady Helena," she addressed the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw House Ghost, a young woman with beautiful features but an aloof expression, "are you enjoying Sir Nicholas's party?"

A bit of surprise, bordering on shock, flitted briefly across the ghost's face before she favored the young Ravenclaw with a faint gentle smile and considering look. "As much as I can, I suppose. It's more a matter of being here to support an old friend than actually enjoying the party. Truth be told, I would much prefer a quiet evening in the company of a good book. I tend to tire quickly of most people's company, particularly those small-minded fools that treat what little they deign to learn as all that is worth knowing. From what I have seen of you the past two months though, you seem like one of the more interesting types to converse with - someone with a deep well of curiosity and a mind that is truly open and eager to learn."

"Minds are like books," Luna nodded with a bright smile, "they're so much more useful when they're open. Oh, but I'm forgetting my manners! Lady Helena, these are my friends Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger, and our teacher Umino Iruka. Everyone, this is Lady Helena, the Ravenclaw House Ghost."

The Grey Lady's smile became somewhat colder and more forced as she nodded stiffly to the other four, who nodded back respectfully, before turning back to Luna. "And what is it that brings five living souls to a deathday party?"

"Well, Sir Nicholas invited Harry after he and Peeves helped Harry out of a bit of trouble with Filch. The rest of us figured he'd be lonely coming on his own, and none of us had ever seen a party for ghosts before." A significant look passed between living Ravenclaw and dead, and the latter gave a near-imperceptible nod; she understood _why_ they didn't want Harry alone tonight of all nights. "It's quite fascinating, really: I would have thought that without needing to stay touching the floor it would open up new dances, but the moves seem just the same as a regular waltz. Hermione was also wondering if the reason for the food being the way it is is to give it a stronger flavor."

"Indeed, you are correct Miss Granger." Lady Helena scoffed. "It's pointless, really. No matter how strong you make it, we still can't taste nor smell anything. We can't truly feel touch, either, even if we can sometimes affect things as if we still had a physical body. Oh, we can feel ourselves and each other, and we can see and hear, but all our senses are somewhat muffled, a bit like being drunk but without the pleasant warmth. As long as I've spent in this state, I'm afraid I cannot in perfect honesty recommend it. Far better to live a satisfying life and not leave anything important undone."

Luna stepped forward and reached out, making a patting motion at the Grey Lady's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll move on one day," she said gently, "when you're ready. Until then, you might as well enjoy all the new books that keep coming through the school. The wrackspurts will go away eventually, even if you still have quite a few. You should speak to the Bloody Baron - he seems to have a similar infestation, and he's alone so much there's nobody to help him with it. Maybe you could help each other?"

The Ravenclaw House Ghost speared the first-year with an intense, searching gaze. "I shall... consider your words, Miss Lovegood. If you would excuse me..." She drifted away, clearly deep in thought.

It was at this point that the Headless Hunt arrived in force, much to the chagrin of the night's guest of honor. "How terribly _rude_!" Hermione said none-too-quietly as they disrupted Sir Nicholas's speech with a game of Head Hockey. "They come to somebody else's party, mock the man on an important occasion for him, then cause a ruckus and distract people in the middle of his speech. I would have thought nobles in their time would still have been taught _manners_ at the very least!" A couple of nearby ghosts nodded at her comments, while some others that had been cheering the game looked transparently abashed, or maybe abashedly transparent.

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The five had soon made their excuses and departed for warmer climes. As they made their way towards the upper floors, Iruka felt a large presence approaching, one radiating a sizable amount of sakki.

Instantly snapping into combat readiness, he stepped into a combat stance between his students and the oncoming threat. "Spearhead formation, wands ready." His words were quiet but held his full authority. All five students moved into one of the formations he'd worked on with them as part of their more combat-oriented training that year. This one spread them behind Iruka, in order to allow him to confront an enemy and protect his allies, while still allowing them to support him with their still fairly limited repertoire of hexes and jinxes. Many wizards scoffed at the seemingly harmless spells taught early in Hogwarts' curriculum, but even something as innocuous as a Tripping Jinx could turn the tide of a fight if timed properly.

The mysterious presence came closer, and instead of footsteps Iruka heard a sliding, scraping sound that even as muffled as it was he identified as the movement of a _very_ big snake. While it wasn't strictly impossible that Sasuke or Mitarashi Anko (or even Orochimaru or Yakushi Kabuto) had managed to follow him to this world and decided to prank him before revealing themselves, the chances were so vanishingly small that he suspected that this was _not_ a friendly snake.

Iruka had a kunai ready in his left hand with his wand in his right, ready to defend his students, but instead the presumed snake moved hissing past the group, somewhere behind or inside the corridor wall judging by what he could hear. As it moved upward and away, the chuunin stowed his kunai but kept his wand ready. "I'm following it," he told the children, "stay close and stay ready." No way was he leaving the four alone and undefended with something big and probably dangerous slithering around.

The five moved off in pursuit, Iruka restraining his speed to allow his students to keep up. Thankfully, all four were by now in pretty good shape and were able to dash after him at speeds most of their classmates would have had trouble maintaining beyond a brief sprint. When the cacophonous babble of voices from the Great Hall drowned out the snake's movement as they passed through the Entrance Hall, they continued up the stairs hoping it didn't double back. On the first floor, Harry suddenly shouted out, "It's going to kill someone!" Iruka glanced back in confusion as his student pushed his pace faster. Had he felt its sakki?

Continuing upwards to the second floor, S.E.N. chased the hostile serpent through numerous corridors before rounding a corner and coming upon an ominous sight. Meter-high words were scrawled high across the wall above the torch sconces, in what Iruka's nose told him even at this distance was blood:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

The stiff form of Mrs. Norris hung from one of the sconces by her tail, and the entire macabre scene was reflected in a large puddle of water extending from the door of a closed girls' toilet.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the presence Iruka had sensed was fading fast, and he couldn't tell what direction it had gone from here. It was already far enough away that the sakki he had first sensed was faint, almost imperceptible, and the sounds he'd been using to track its movements were simply too quiet to be heard through the intervening stone. Rather than make a desperate and probably hopeless attempt to continue chasing the creature, Iruka decided to handle the more immediately-accessible situation.

"Flippy!" The house-elf appeared with a crack. "Go to Professor Dumbledore and ask him to come here as quickly as possible, along with Mr. Filch." Responding with a quick nod, she popped back out. A quick general-purpose Disspelling Charm failed to release Mrs. Norris from whatever had afflicted her, meaning she'd need more knowledgeable help than he could provide; if the Headmaster couldn't do it, he'd probably at least know who could or if it was impossible.

Iruka turned to his students. "You can put your wands away, I think. Whatever that was, it's gone far enough that I can't tell where it went, so we should be safe enough. Headmaster Dumbledore will be here soon; hopefully he'll know more."

It wasn't the Headmaster that was first to arrive, however, but a mass of students leaving the just-ended Halloween Feast. Their rumbling footsteps and excited, sugar-amplified babble trailed off into shocked silence as they came upon the tableaux. After a few moments, that silence was broken by a triumphant, high-pitched shout:

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It took only a moment to identify the source of the bigoted crowing. "That will be ten points from Slytherin and a night's detention, Mister Malfoy, for using that disgusting slur, and another fifty points and a week's detention for threatening your fellow students." Unlike the blonde second-year, Iruka didn't need to raise his voice to make himself heard.

"You can't do that!" The boy shouted at Iruka, shocked. "When my father hears of this-"

"I suspect that he will tell you to moderate both your language and behavior when in polite company." Headmaster Dumbledore's calm voice cut right across Draco's budding tantrum. "I cannot, of course, be truly certain of that, nor what his response will be to his son espousing such a toxic viewpoint." His tone of voice managed to clearly imply that he knew it was the elder Malfoy from whom the younger had learned his bigotry. "Regardless, I would ask all students save those accompanying Professor Umino to return to their House common rooms for the evening."

As the student body slowly departed, clearly reluctant to miss out on any further entertainment or gossip fodder, Argus Filch stomped forward. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?"

"Come with me, Argus," the Headmaster said, "You too, Iruka, and your students here."

"My office is nearest, Headmaster..."

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Lockhart had unfortunately managed to tag along with Professor Dumbledore, and it was his offer that led to a group of staff and students meeting in the Defense Professor's office while its current occupant hovered around making unsolicited suggestions and boastful claims. After an extensive examination, the Headmaster was able to determine that Mrs. Norris was alive but petrified, a state that apparently acted as a form of suspended animation and could be cured with a potion made from the Mandrakes being grown by Professor Sprout. _How_ this petrification had happened was less clear.

Given the presence of people outside their circle of complete trust, Iruka had quietly informed his students en route to let him take the lead. He fully intended to bring the four of them together with the Headmaster for a more private meeting later.

In his distress over the attack on his cat, Filch had accused Harry of being responsible because he knew the caretaker was a Squib. That revelation certainly explained to Iruka why the man had such a sunny disposition: It couldn't be easy being born to a magical family and living surrounded by magic without being able to use it oneself. Regardless, Iruka promptly refuted that accusation with the fact that Harry and the other three students had been with him the entire evening.

With no more information forthcoming and no further action to be taken, the impromptu meeting broke up as everyone left to retire for the evening. Madam Pomfrey took Mrs. Norris down to the Hospital Wing with her and Iruka walked his students back to their Houses before turning in himself.

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 **A/N:** **Again, a Halloween with subtle but potentially far-reaching changes. As pivotal as the scene is to Book 2, it was treading a lot of canon ground (and quoting the book a lot), so I felt that both for pacing and IP reasons it was best to cut to a summary.**

 **As much as I love Luna as a character and love reading her in other people's stories, I must confess that I tend to find her a bit difficult to write. It's hard for me to really get into her head properly, to make good use of her various 'creatures', and to decide exactly how much unexplainable insight she should show. I can only hope that I'm doing her justice.**

 **When writing the scene outside Myrtle's bathroom, I obviously referenced that scene in the book quite a bit (as I write, I have whatever book I'm currently working through the plot of sitting beside me so that I can re-read sections as needed). It really struck me reading the canonical description of Draco's reaction just how** _ **evil**_ **the little bigot was. If you read that scene, it's obvious that he's not just yelling out his announcement to intimidate those of 'lesser blood', but that he's intensely eager and excited for what he thinks is coming. What may be the most intense positive emotion he shows in seven books, and it's in anticipation of the mass murder of children - let that sink in a bit. The only thing that made him redeemable (other than author fiat) was the fact that he was still too young and sheltered to truly grasp what it was he was celebrating and endorsing; that understanding didn't come until Half-Blood Prince, and it was enough of a harsh shock that he no longer wanted anything to do with it. I genuinely believe that if Lucius had done what I see in some fics, and provided Draco with kidnapped Muggles to practice on from an early age and eased him into the violence and horror gradually, he'd have passed the point of no return sometime in his teens.**

 **I've also added this to the A/N of the previous chapter, but for those that read that chapter before the edit: Thanks to everyone for your reviews and support! I try to respond in at least some way to reviewers, but I felt like continuing to send generic form-letter PMs to frequent reviewers wasn't really doing more than bloating their inboxes. From now on, I'm going to mostly keep review responses to new/infrequent reviewers and those reviews for which I have more to say than simply thanking the reviewer for the nth time.**

 **Another item of note: It was pointed out to me by guest reviewer Sage (among others) that Death's cloak was immune to Summoning Charms, so I tweaked chapter 25 / 1-15 to have Quirrellmort blowing it off of Harry with a blast of wind instead. Thanks for catching that!**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Monstrous" by The Mad Mad Reviewer - a _long_ one-shot in which... _something_ shows up in the Forbidden Forest, and more than that is spoiler territory. Some drama, some tragic backstory, and some great comedy (including Voldemort complaining about Ministry bureaucracy).**

 **Posted 17 June 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 62**


	35. 2-6: Secrets

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

The next morning found Iruka and his four students settling into conjured chairs in the Headmaster's office. All of the children were gazing around the room and its contents with curiosity and awe; Luna had been the only one to accept the customary offer of lemon candy.

"Now that we are all seated," Headmaster Dumbledore began, "I've asked you here to discuss in greater detail the events of last evening. Given the somewhat vague nature of Professor Umino's report, I could only assume that the full story involves some of those facts which we all agree should not yet become common knowledge?"

Iruka nodded. "We were coming back from Sir Nicholas's party when I first sensed a presence, one that was approaching us while putting out a worrying amount of sakki. As it got closer, I began to hear it somewhat, and though the sounds were muffled I'm fairly certain that they were made by a snake or snakelike creature. It was a big one, too, probably at least ten or fifteen meters long. Thankfully we didn't encounter it directly; it sounded as if it were moving inside or behind the wall, somehow."

"Not wanting to leave my students alone with a clearly dangerous creature on the loose," he continued, "I had them join me in following the creature. Eventually we came upon the scene on the second floor, and I sent Flippy to get you after finding that whatever the thing was had withdrawn."

Albus frowned. "I know of no serpentine creature capable of inflicting petrification such as that which now afflicts Mrs. Norris, and few that would know how to write legible words, let alone be physically capable of doing so."

Harry hesitantly raised his hand, only speaking at the Headmaster's nod. "We also know it can talk - does that narrow it down?"

Iruka looked at his student quizzically. "Why do you think it can talk?"

Harry just looked confused. "You said you heard it coming, didn't you hear what it was saying?"

"Harry, I never heard it say anything."

"But... I heard it... It was saying it was hungry, talking about ripping and tearing and killing, then just before we found Mrs. Norris it yelled 'I smell blood!' - didn't you hear any of that?"

Iruka shook his head. "I just heard the sounds of something big sliding, slithering, and hissing. By Professor Dumbledore's expression, though, he might have some ideas." Indeed, the Headmaster looked both thoughtful and deeply troubled.

"Some theories, yes, one of which we may be able to confirm momentarily." Albus rose and retrieved his Pensieve, depositing a small memory strand into it. After a brief explanation of the device's purpose and how to use it (one which clearly left the two young witches present unsatisfied and planning later research), he and Harry dipped their faces into the not-quite-liquid in the basin.

After a few minutes of stillness, they emerged with the same expressions as before. "That was a memory from one of my journeys abroad quite some years ago. The man you saw was an Indian wizard, and despite your insistence that he spoke only English during the memory, I can assure you that it was a very different tongue in which he addressed that cobra." A gasp from Neville and a widening of Luna's eyes showed that they had already understood something that still escaped the half of the room's occupants not raised with magic. "Parseltongue, the language of snakes, is an exceedingly rare magical gift, and one with a most unsavory reputation in Wizarding Britain. That reputation," he spoke towards the two purebloods present, "is largely due to the foul deeds of several particularly notorious Parselmouths, including both Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort." Both purebloods flinched at the name, though not as badly as they might have previously thanks to Iruka's attempts to desensitize them to it.

"Regardless," the Headmaster continued, "there have also been many fine witches and wizards to possess the trait. Paracelsus, the famed alchemist and healer, was a Parselmouth. It is even believed that the Staff of Asclepius may be wound with a serpent because of an ancient Parselmouth healer. Indeed, in nations where venomous snakes are a significant hazard, or where snakes themselves are venerated, Parselmouths are often treated with the utmost respect and reverence for their ability to communicate with the beasts."

"As for how young Mr. Potter came to possess such a talent, I am not certain. It tends to run in families, but I know of no other Potter in recent history who displayed this trait, Lily included. It is possible that, due in part to the protection a young Harry received from his mother, Lord Voldemort's failed attack resulted in the transference of a small sliver of his power, including the ability to speak to snakes. Another theory is that, just as magic may seemingly arise in families that have not previously demonstrated it," here he gestured to Hermione, "so too can magical talents such as Parseltongue, and this might explain Mr. Potter's gift. Alternatively, both could be incorrect and some other, yet unconcieved explanation may be true."

"What we must all remember," he concluded, "is that just as our ability to do magic does not make us better or worse than Muggles or Squibs, neither does the gift of Parseltongue mean that a witch or wizard is dark, or evil, nor inclined or fated to become such. I have every confidence in Mr. Potter's character and integrity, and would hope that you all do as well." This was met with a round of firm nods. "That said, I am not as confident in the likelihood of this being a universally-held view should his gift become commonly known, and would urge you all to do your best to avoid revealing it unnecessarily." Iruka and his students all nodded.

"With that out of the way," the chuunin said, "I have to figure that whatever this was is probably what Dobby was trying to warn us about. Unfortunately, 'big snake monster' isn't much more specific than 'terrible things' and we're still missing a lot of important information. The most important questions I can see are: What is this creature, and what is it capable of? Why is it attacking now, and what is the objective? Are the students in danger, and if so, how can we make them safer?"

The Headmaster nodded. "All excellent questions, though we might make some educated guesses. First, however, I believe that we have imposed on your four students quite long enough for one day, as all of them doubtless have schoolwork needing done. Unless any of you have further insights to offer or questions to ask, I would bid you good morning."

Hermione hesitantly raised her hand at this point. "Ms. Granger?" the Headmaster called on her with an encouraging smile.

"I was just wondering Professor, what _is_ this Chamber of Secrets?"

"Ah, yes," he replied, "I suppose that I'm likely the only one here to be familiar with that particular legend..." What followed was a summary of the legend of Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber and the monster that supposedly lay within, waiting to purge the school of those its creator deemed unworthy of magic. Unfortunately, as there was no recorded proof of said chamber actually _existing_ , nor of where it might be nor what it might contain, it wasn't really much to go on. That explanation complete, the children filed out to continue their weekend after an admonishment to keep the nature and contents of the morning's meeting confidential, aside from perhaps the legend of the Chamber.

"Now that we are alone," Albus picked back up, "I should address your earlier questions. We may presume that the creature is capable of petrifying its victims, and doing so without detectable injury or cause. Its objective may be to eliminate or drive away those students of so-called 'impure' blood, in keeping with the legend of Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber and the so-called monster it contained. As far as danger to the students..." He hesitated, clearly reluctant. "I fear that they may well be in danger. The previous time the Chamber of Secrets was supposedly opened, several students were petrified and one lost her life. I have already instructed the ghosts, portraits, and elves to be watchful for anything out of place, and to urge and guide any wayward student back towards company. If we are fortunate, this will turn out to be an ill-advised prank in extremely poor taste, or failing that will be soon resolved, and I fear the panic that might result should we take further measures without more information."

Iruka frowned. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with such thin precautions around something that has previously killed a student."

"Firstly, we do not know whether this is truly the same as the previous incident," Dumbledore placated, "though it does seem strikingly similar. Secondly, it is unclear whether the petrifications and the death were from the same cause. The prevailing theory prior to your report of hearing a snake or other serpentine creature was that the petrifications were the work of some unknown Dark curse, something made more convincing by the fact that those students who were petrified seemed to be frozen in the midst of normal activity, and reported no memory of the cause upon being revived. This was far more characteristic of a spell than of a creature attack or a potion of some kind. The young lady who died was also unmarked, something those in power disregarded utterly," here he seemed to shoot a brief glare at the portrait of a particularly elderly wizard that was currently napping, "which is more typical of a death by either potion, poison, or Killing Curse, things it is unlikely that a mere beast could manage. Given the fact that the previous series of attacks took place decades ago, and I am the only member of the faculty from that time still in the castle save the late Cuthbert Binns (who is only likely to slay his students through sheer tedium), it would be quite difficult for the same perpetrator to be behind both incidents."

"Do you know who carried out the attacks previously?" Iruka asked.

"Indeed. Although he was successfully able to frame an innocent fellow student for his crimes, it was the young man who would later go on to famously scar our Mr. Potter. Given the haste with which his wraith fled the school in June, I think it hardly likely for him to have returned so quickly, especially as the events of that night likely took a toll on him and will require him to spend time rebuilding his strength. Without the aid of another wizard or witch, he will be hard pressed to do more than simply exist for a long while."

"Harry asked Dobby, who specifically said it _wasn't_ 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'," Iruka chimed in. "It was like the elf was trying to hint at something he couldn't say, but we can't figure out what."

The Headmaster nodded. "Enigmatic, but also something of a relief, as it indicates our culprit is someone else, presumably a witch or wizard of significantly lesser capability than Lord Voldemort. So, did you have any remaining questions to ask or insights or information to share?"

"Just this," Iruka replied, "do we know what those words were written in? It looked like blood, and smelled like blood, but Mrs. Norris wasn't injured. If that _was_ blood, it had to come from somewhere, and more importantly from some _thing_ or some _one_. Identifying and maybe tracing the source of the blood or paint (assuming it wasn't just conjured with a spell) might provide a useful clue."

"All we have been able to ascertain is that the words are indeed written in blood, though not the blood of a human being. I have heard references to magics which can track a person or creature by a sample of their blood, but they are generally Dark by nature and uniformly prohibited as Dark magic by the Ministry. Given that I do not personally know any such spells, nor am I aware of any being in either my library or that of Hogwarts, I cannot say how we might make use of them even were we willing to risk the legal repercussions."

"One more question then," Iruka said, "what can you tell me about the previous case where the chamber was supposedly opened?"

Headmaster Dumbledore's face darkened. "It was precisely fifty years ago, in the 1942-43 school year. A significant number of students were petrified, always without leaving witnesses or useful evidence to point to the culprit. Nearing the end of the year, a young Muggle-born witch in Ravenclaw was slain, though as with those petrified there were no signs of violence on or around her remains. It was feared that the school might have to be closed, when a Slytherin prefect pointed the finger of blame solidly at a third-year Gryffindor and his illegal pet acromantula. The young Gryffindor was expelled, and his wand snapped, while the prefect was given a special award for services to the school. However, given that the prefect in question went on to be known as Lord Voldemort, and an acromantula would be incapable of killing without leaving a mark or of petrifying at all, I am quite certain that the wrong party was blamed. The attacks, however, stopped, leaving me with no way to prove the boy's innocence despite my suspicions and reservations. I'm afraid that while I suspected the young Slytherin of being the guilty party, and of other possible wrongdoing, he had thoroughly charmed much of the school's faculty, including both his Head of House and my predecessor as Headmaster." Another harsh glance was thrown towards the same portrait as before. "Thus, despite attacking many of his schoolmates, murdering another, and framing yet another, he went on to be Head Boy in his seventh year."

"While I can certainly understand not wanting to name the victims in that case, including the student framed," Iruka asked, "might I ask why you seem so hesitant to use Voldemort's name?"

Albus sighed. "Lord Voldemort's original name is a secret which both he and I keep, albeit for differing reasons. His name, given by his late mother at his birth, is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I doubt that name means anything to you, and part of the reason for this is that his first and last names are those of his father, a Muggle." Nodding solemnly at the look of naked shock on of his guest's face, he continued. "Tom is actually a so-called half-blood, born of a Muggle father and Pureblood witch mother. Needless to say, given his stated ideology and that of his followers, it would likely erode his support rather significantly if it became known (and actually believed) that he himself was sired by a Muggle. Thus, he conceals his origins."

"However, actually _getting_ Tom's followers to believe the truth would be nearly impossible, making it unlikely to serve as a useful weapon against him. In addition, I fear the effects this information could have if distributed widely: While yes, it might erode support for Tom and his crusade, it could also be used by those who scorn Muggles and any magical descended from them. Can you not picture such people making arguments that it was 'the pollution of pure Wizarding blood' that led to Tom's instability? They would use the revelation of his blood status to push for greater restrictions upon those of Muggle ancestry and upon contact or interaction with Muggles. Thus the truth of Tom's origins, while useful in understanding him, would benefit neither side of the conflict should it be released but might greatly harm those already so disadvantaged in our society."

Iruka nodded. "People will believe what they want to believe, and once a belief is set it's nearly impossible to change. The Death Eaters would dismiss the truth as a lie, while other bigots would just use it to justify and fuel their agenda. Still, I may ask you later for a more detailed history on him; knowing one's enemy makes it easier to predict their actions, after all."

When no further ideas or information were ventured, the meeting broke up, with both present committing to research creatures fitting the information they had while looking out for any other clues (and Iruka promising to ask his students to do the same).

* * *

 **A/N: So, Dumbledore shared a lot more information there than I had expected, intended, or wanted him to. I just couldn't really see a reason or a way for him to keep more to himself, especially with several highly intelligent people asking questions. It certainly makes it a bit harder for me to plausibly write anything but a rapid solution to the mystery.**

 **My solution? Erroneous conclusions! Dumbledore has concluded (and convinced the others) that Myrtle was killed by Killing Curse, and thus they're looking for something that petrifies. It's not actually a bad assumption, given where they're working from: Originally, the working theory was that it was all the work of a wizard, but now he knows there's a creature involved. Human nature being what it is, particularly Dumbles's, he's going to make the smallest reasonable change to his existing theory that fits the new evidence. A creature that petrifies rather than killing would even be a reasonable theory to fit the legend of the Chamber, since it would allow Slytherin to eliminate the unworthy while allowing him to restore innocent Pureblood students.**

 **"But why doesn't Dumbledore realize it's a basilisk now?" I hear you ask? First off, basilisks are clearly rare and exotic beasts, not something that readily comes to mind. Second, even thinking along 'creature' lines, he's starting with 'something that petrifies' and** _ **then**_ **narrowing it down towards snakes. At least for this story, the reason canon!Hermione solved the mystery when none of the adults could was partly that she had more clues (parseltongue, spiders, roosters) and partly that she was** _ **starting**_ **from the basis that the monster was something serpentine. The adults wouldn't have even considered a basilisk on the headings they were following.**

 **Again, I try to have even the mistakes made by the characters in my writing make sense to the reader.**

 **Justifying the lack of visible precautions for students' safety was tough, and in the end it's down to a combination of** _ **in**_ **visible precautions, incorrect assumptions (Tom's not here so they should be safer), Dumbledore's hubris and optimism (I'm sure we can clear this up before anyone's seriously hurt), and protecting the status quo (the attacker probably** _ **wants**_ **a panic).**

 **The reasoning behind keeping Voldemort's background a secret is borrowed primarily from "A Different Halloween" by robst, though I've seen similar fallout/rationale elsewhere I'm sure.**

 **To guest reviewer "Blackdrake": Thanks for your review! Harry did hear the Basilisk's hissing, as I hope this chapter makes clearer.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Kusari no Naruto" by Digitize27 - a somewhat grittier and darker-ish version of Naruto, in which he unlocks his mother's chakra chains and ends up trained/raised by a very eccentric group of ANBU.**

 **Posted 1 July 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 62  
Edited 15 July 2018: Apparently Isolt Sayre was _not_ a Parselmouth, so I removed that reference.  
Current WIP Chapter: 63  
**


	36. 2-7: Bludger

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Rumors and speculation about the Chamber of Secrets, the Heir of Slytherin, and the attack on Mrs. Norris ran wild through the student body. Theories on the identity of the so-called Heir ranged from the understandable (like Draco Malfoy), through the tenuous (like Harry Potter), to the borderline insane (such as Queen Elizabeth the Second). Hermione had, to nobody's surprise, shared the legend of the Chamber with her housemates, and progressively more distorted retellings spread from there.

Iruka had shared what few clues they had regarding the creature they'd been chasing that night with S.E.N. and the adult Lovegoods, all of whom were now putting in what time they could reasonably spare to pore over tomes on magical creatures of various types. Unfortunately, nothing they could find so far seemed to fit even the limited profile they had.

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The first Quidditch game of the year arrived, and Iruka once more found himself in the stands. This year, the Slytherin team seemed to have supplemented their reliance on brute force and dirty play with the use of the top-of-the-line brooms with which Lucius Malfoy had apparently bought his son a place on the team. It was no wonder the boy was so insufferable, if his father spoiled him so thoroughly as to spend what had to be a sizeable chunk of money just to feed his son's schoolyard rivalry.

It had barely been ten seconds since the game began when one of the Bludgers seemed to home in on Harry, who easily evaded it before one of the Weasley twins knocked it toward Pucey on the Slytherin team. Strangely, it almost immediately changed course and again aimed for the Gryffindor Seeker. Soon both twins had assumed escort duty beside the young Potter, repeatedly smashing the Bludger away only for it to turn and make another run. Not feeling any sakki, Iruka couldn't tell whether this was an innocent (albeit dangerous) malfunction, a bit of cheating by the Slytherins, or yet another attack on his student. A scan of the stands didn't show anyone maintaining the same kind of focused contact Quirrell had used to jinx Harry's broom the previous year.

While this was going on, Iruka idly noted through the rain that had just started that the Slytherin team were making heavy use of their fancy new brooms. Their Keeper wasn't enjoying his much, its speed and acceleration being a bit too high for the short movements he needed to make and its construction too precise and delicate to use the broom itself to help block shots as other Keepers did at times. Fortunately for him, there weren't many shots for him to block, as his Beaters had unchallenged control of the Bludger that was functioning properly, and this combined with their speed allowed them to constantly disrupt the Gryffindor Chaser formation. Said Chasers also weren't getting many opportunities to steal the Quaffle, both because of their opponents' superior speed and because said opponents had almost completely stopped bothering to pass to each other. What little teamwork and guile they'd shown the previous year had been greatly degraded by their improved equipment; with nobody able to really get in their way, whoever got the Quaffle held on to it, clearly aiming to get personal credit for as many goals as possible. Fortunately for Gryffindor's keeper, they were relying almost exclusively on speed to get their shots past him, making them far more predictable, even if he was having trouble getting into position quickly enough to make use of that insight.

After several minutes of frustration and futility, Gryffindor called a time-out. "Good," Iruka commented, "hopefully they can get that Bludger looked at and working properly."

"I wouldn't bet on it," replied Filius. "Such an examination wouldn't be allowed during the game; the only way to make it happen is to end the game, which during a time-out could only happen through forfeit. Someone has, whether through cunning or blind luck, managed to sabotage the Gryffindors in a way that simply cannot be corrected during the game, leaving them forced to choose between playing it out with the added handicap or surrendering the win. Given what I know of the players involved, I strongly suspect they will take the former option."

The Ravenclaw Head's prediction proved correct, as the players once again took to the air. Gryffindor's strategy seemed to have changed, however, and Iruka intended to scold whoever came up with the idea: Harry was now flying unprotected, leading the rogue Bludger on a wild chase and leaving the rest of his team to play without its interference. He soon shot back into the area of play, leading the bludger towards the Slytherin players while exploiting his ability to outmaneuver it in order to leave his opponents briefly in its path. It was such an insane, risky tactic that Iruka could only think that Harry's Quidditch robes should be orange instead of crimson.

Harry's flight patterns suddenly changed, and it was clear that he'd spotted the Snitch and was now bearing down on it. Unfortunately, this shift in his focus kept him from paying sufficient attention to his pursuer: Just as his fingers wrapped around a glint of gold, the Snitch's bigger, angrier brother smashed into Harry's leg, which promptly bent somewhere there wasn't any joint. As the young Gryffindor spiraled down to the pitch, the Weasley twins immediately moved to corral the rogue Bludger.

Iruka reached the pitch along with many other spectators, and approached Harry just as Lockhart was apparently attempting some sort of healing spell despite the injured boy's pleas to the contrary. Moving quickly (though not so quickly as to give anything away) he grabbed his colleague's wand hand, keeping the wand within pointed away from anyone. "It really is rude to cast spells on someone without their permission, Professor. Perhaps it would be best to allow Mr. Potter to be taken to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey's expert care?" While his smile was bland, he made sure to put enough steel in his tone to add some emphasis to his 'suggestion'.

"Well, I suppose if you and he insist. Really, I could have that fixed in a trice, save the poor lad some time and pain..." Iruka tuned out the continued blather of the fool that somehow remained perfectly-coiffed in spite of the drizzling rain.

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While Harry's broken leg was more or less fixed in under an hour, it was still a bad enough break that Madam Pomfrey had Harry stay in the Hospital Wing overnight to make sure the healing took without any complications. Before leaving him to the matron's tender mercies, Iruka made sure to scold his student for such a reckless and dangerous strategy over a school game. "If you're going to risk your life, make sure it's over something worth dying for," he told the boy.

By the next morning, it turned out, Harry had company: Colin Creevey had apparently snuck out of Gryffindor Tower after curfew, and wound up petrified much like Mrs. Norris. The Gryffindor Seeker also quietly informed Iruka that he'd had another visit from Dobby during the night, the House-Elf claiming credit for both the malfunctioning barrier at King's Cross Station and the rogue bludger that had injured Harry.

After getting Harry's report on Dobby's reappearance, Iruka once again made his way to the Headmaster's office.

"It is actually something of a relief," the aged wizard said, "that this 'Dobby' was warning of the troubles we are experiencing. Better that than having both those _and_ some other dire problem. Still, this is all most perplexing. The involvement of a House-Elf, particularly one not known to our elven staff here at Hogwarts, suggests that the instigator of these incidents is likely a member of one of the wealthier and Darker Pureblood families; the abuse suffered by the poor creature and his statements only heighten this likelihood. My best hypothesis is that Lord Voldemort somehow left one or more of his followers with instructions regarding the opening of the Chamber, possibly along with whatever 'key' might be required. Alas, it is an incomplete idea at best, and gives us nothing presently actionable."

Iruka nodded in assent. "One thing I was wondering," he asked, "Harry mentioned your reaction to the damage to Colin Creevey's camera - was there something familiar about it?"

"Indeed there was," Albus replied, "a similar incident took place during the previous opening. As with Mr. Creevey's camera, the innards of the camera held by the petrified student were catastrophically damaged."

"What were the circumstances of the other attacks? While I'm assuming that all of the victims were of so-called 'impure blood' there might be other common factors or patterns that might help us. I'm sure you and others have already looked for patterns, but with these new attacks and some fresh sets of eyes, maybe we can come up with new insights."

Dumbledore nodded, and began describing in detail the previous set of attacks: The first was in late fall, a first-year Ravenclaw girl sitting in an alcove on the third floor and looking out a window. A fourth-year Hufflepuff boy was attacked next, standing on the shore of the Black Lake near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Third was a second-year Gryffindor boy on the second floor, looking through his camera similarly to Mr. Creevy. Fourth was a sixth-year Gryffindor girl, touching up her makeup on the sixth floor. The fifth was a seventh-year boy from Gryffindor, on the outer ramparts after curfew, who the staff suspected but could not prove was using his telescope in an attempt to peep into the windows of female students. Finally, the fatal attack on a third-year Ravenclaw girl in the same washroom outside which Mrs. Norris was attacked on Halloween. He proceeded to bring out his Pensieve and show Iruka his memories about the previous attacks, and both men looked over each remembered scene in as much detail as the medium allowed. There were no breakthroughs, but Iruka couldn't help but feel like there _was_ a connection and he was missing it somehow.

Shaking off his frustration, the chuunin asked the next question on his mind. "When will Mr. Creevey be able to resume classes?"

The Headmaster's face fell. "Unfortunately, it may well be June before the school's crop of mandrakes is matured enough for use. Mandrake is not commonly cultivated; its primary use, the Mandrake Restorative Draught, is only truly needed for the most severe of cases. With such little demand, there is little reason for growers to take the time, effort, and risk of producing large quantities. The small supply, in turn, results in very limited availability and often rather high prices, with mandrake crops often entirely sold months before their harvest. To purchase one or more doses of the Draught, or the mandrake root required to produce it, on short notice would be quite expensive."

"Ironically, the good fortune of having mandrakes already growing in our greenhouses is actually _delaying_ Mr. Creevey's restoration: We have a guaranteed source of mandrake at a fraction of the normal cost, and since the child is likely one of the safest people in the castle in his present state there is no urgent need to cure him of it. Further, we can already infer from the previous set of attacks that he will not likely be able to provide any information that would help in halting the current set. Hogwarts' budget is already strained as it stands, and due to the influence of blood-purists in and upon both organisations, neither the Board of Governors nor the Ministry of Magic are willing to offer up the funds. The aforementioned lack of danger also leaves those few philanthropists that do care for Muggleborns hesitant to contribute. Further complicating matters is the fact that this is unlikely to be the last such attack, given previous history, and nobody wants to set a precedent that would compel them to keep contributing additional monies to help subsequent petrification victims."

Iruka sighed. "I guess that makes sense, even if it's not a particularly pleasant kind of sense."

* * *

 **A/N: This was** _ **not**_ **an easy chapter to write. Trying to keep Dumbledore consistent in his portrayal without introducing major plot holes can get really,** _ **really**_ **hard sometimes.**

 **Yes, the first petrified student Dumbledore speaks of is a reference to Harry Crow. I couldn't not. The boy with the telescope was inspired (inasmuch as it used the telescope) by 'The Sinistra Ward and the Chamber of Secrets' by Irish216, second in what is currently an ongoing (and slow-updating) 3-fic series.**

 **Just an FYI, Chapter 25 has been tweaked again: A review from user "iluvstorys" prompted me to make clear that the ropes wrapped Iruka's entire body.**

 **In response to guest reviewer "Schullek": I could have sworn that I read somewhere that Isolt Sayre was believed to be a Parselmouth, but unconfirmed as one, but the Harry Potter wiki confirms that she could understand snakes but not speak to them. I'll be fixing that when I post this chapter.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Game of the Gods" by Limyaael - A Lord of the Rings fic, in which Morgoth keeps trying to make trouble in Middle-Earth by sending in various Mary Sues, only for Varda to destroy them by applying a bit of reality and logic.**

 **Posted 15 July 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 63**


	37. 2-7: Duelling

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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A low buzz of excitement ran through the school one snowed-in Friday in December, with the announcement of a newly-formed Duelling Club which would be having its inaugural meeting that evening. The short notice was somewhat odd (not to mention a bit irritating), but Iruka resolved to attend. While his occasional demonstrations and bouts with the Headmaster were helpful, it would be better to at least see a more diverse sample of duelists.

All that went out the window when Justin Finch-Fletchley was found petrified beside a seemingly-insensate Sir Nicholas. Unlike Colin Creevey's petrification, which occurred quietly in the middle of the night, this scene received plenty of attention from students and staff, courtesy of Peeves.

After the two victims of this attack had been moved to the Hospital Wing (Sir Nicholas being pushed along with wind from a conjured fan) and the rest of the students accounted for and sequestered in their Houses, the Headmaster called the entire staff together for an emergency meeting.

"What are we to _do_ Albus?" Pomona Sprout was visibly distraught at the attack on one of her Badgers. "We've more than enough Mandrakes growing, but it'll be months yet before they're fit to use. Now there's two students that'll be missing months of schooling, and missing holidays with their families, and we've still no idea what's _causing_ all this!"

"It's not precisely _no_ idea, Pomona," Dumbledore replied with a serious expression and a placating tone, "but what we do have is still too vague to be acted upon in any meaningful fashion. The fact that the perpetrator of these attacks was somehow able to affect Sir Nicholas in such a way is, I must admit, both troubling and perplexing. I myself can think of nothing capable of such a result, though I would ask if any of you might have knowledge of any similar incidents."

"Well, there was that time while I was hunting the Wagga Wagga Werewolf..." Lockhart launched into a long and florid anecdote that even Iruka, with his limited knowledge of magic, found difficult to believe. From the looks on his fellow Professors' faces, he wasn't the only one, with Professors Snape and Sprout looking particularly irritated at the pompous blowhard.

"Indeed, thank you for that Gilderoy, I shall be sure to look into that possibility." Lockhart preened at the Headmaster's praise that only barely avoided sounding shamelessly insincere. "I would ask all of you to continue to do your utmost to look out for the students, and to come to me immediately should you think of anything else or discover any new information. I believe that it would be best to cancel both classes and activities for the remainder of the day," at this the Defense Professor deflated, "and other than that do our best to move things along until the Express departs for the holidays. I think it most unlikely that our perpetrator would dare attack with most of the students out of the castle, as it would greatly narrow the likely suspects and thus put them at significantly increased risk of discovery. Unless circumstances change or new information comes to light, we can only maintain our vigilance and continue our investigations. Now, unless anyone has any further business?"

Hagrid timidly raised a hand. "I could use permission an' a bit o' help wardin' the chicken coops. Summat's been gettin' in, killed two roosters this term."

"Of course, Hagrid, by all means. Would you be available, Filius?" At the small Professor's nod, Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Thank you. I fear I shall continue to be particularly occupied for the forseeable future." Now he addressed the room: "Anything else? No? Then I bid you all a good afternoon."

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The students were very much on edge the next morning, and far more were soon confirmed as going home (or at least leaving the castle) for the holidays than had been the day before.

Iruka trudged his way out to Hagrid's hut at the first opportunity. Something had been nagging at his mind: Were the dead roosters the gamekeeper mentioned unusual? If they were a frequent occurrence, he would probably have already gotten his chicken coops warded. If they were out of the ordinary, then the possibility had to be explored that they might be connected somehow to the attacks.

"Professor Umino!" The large man waved cheerfully as his visitor approached. "What brings yeh out here in this weather?"

"Just a couple of questions about something that occurred to me," the chuunin responded, "you mentioned yesterday that two of your roosters have been killed this term. How often does something like that happen?"

Hagrid scratched his head. "Not too often. Every few years, summat gets into the chickens and kills a couple. 'S a bit odd, though, never had two times in one term. Roosters're a bit better at protectin' themselves than hens, too, so most things'd go after hens ter be safer. An' whatever it was, it didn' eat one bite from either rooster, just drained the blood, so best guess is tha' it's a Blood-Sucking Bugbear doin' it."

Iruka's suspicions shot through the roof. "And when were the roosters killed, anyway?"

"Well," the gamekeeper replied, "the most recent one I jus' found yesterday, so it must've been the nigh' before. Firs' one died on Halloween, an' o' course I forgot what with all the mess that evenin'." Hagrid looked particularly disturbed at the oblique reference to the attack on Mrs. Norris.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Iruka said, "that clears things up a bit for me."

"Anytime, Professor. Give Harry and the others my best, would yeh?"

"Of course. Enjoy your holidays!"

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Soon thereafter, Iruka was once again in the Headmaster's office, recounting the information he'd learned on his trip to the gamekeeper's hut.

"Most intriguing," Dumbledore mused while stroking his beard, "I quite agree that the timing of the first rooster's death, and its exsanguination, seem rather unlikely to be mere coincidence as they relate to our current trouble. It strikes me as most probable that whoever is behind the attacks within the castle also killed Hagrid's roosters. I would have expected, in that light, to see another message following the petrification of Mr. Finch-Fletchley and the incapacitation of Sir Nicholas, and yet no such message has thus far appeared."

"I suspect that a second message will appear," Albus continued, "however perfunctory it may be. Regardless, we would seem to have found another clue, though it seems thus far to have only answered an incidental question. Still, I shall ask Filius to place a number of monitoring spells around Hagrid's chicken coops - if chance favors us we might be able to identify the perpetrator should they require yet more blood."

Iruka departed again after assuring his employer that S.E.N. would be apprised of the latest development.

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All four student members of S.E.N. departed on the Hogwarts Express for winter holidays. In one of their private sessions, Harry had expressed to Iruka his excitement at getting to experience a family Christmas celebration as a participant rather than as a spectator and domestic servant. For his part, the chuunin simply daydreamed about introducing Vernon and Petunia Dursley to Mitarashi Anko.

As in previous years, Iruka joined in with the Lovegood family's festivities. Unlike the previous years, he and his four students (along with both sets of available parents) were gathered together at Longbottom Hall for that family's annual New Years Eve Ball. Both Granger parents had spent much of the evening wide-eyed at the copious and often casual displays of magic, from the decorations and foodstuffs to the house-elves. Some of the other attendees had given the Grangers (and to a lesser degree Harry) sour looks and/or made pointed comments aimed at their Muggle outfits, but Augusta Longbottom often politely but firmly rebuked those she caught exhibiting such behavior.

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Term resumed, and on nearly the first evening not already significantly occupied by other activities, the postponed Duelling Club finally met.

Upon arriving, Iruka naturally gravitated towards where S.E.N. had gathered, joining their speculation about exactly what the Club would entail and who might be running it. The Duelling Club was being held in the Great Hall to accommodate the large number of interested pupils; the House Tables had been removed, and in their place was a duelling stage - a long rectangular platform, about a meter and a half across by ten meters long, and elevated by about a meter to let participants be clearly seen by all in the room while allowing most stray spells to fly harmlessly over the spectators' heads.

Much to the chuunin's dismay (and that of three of his students) it turned out that the Club was being run by Gilderoy Lockhart, though the inclusion of Severus Snape as an assistant at least provided a bit of hope that there might be some useful information at some point.

Quite a few of the wizards in the room, Iruka included, took a great deal of satisfaction and amusement watching Lockhart blasted across the room. This quickly turned to frustrated exasperation when the pompous idiot simply had all the children in the room pair off and begin duelling. After calming the chaos that promptly erupted (with Iruka's help), Lockhart then suggested a single match on the stage, choosing Neville and pitting him against Draco Malfoy. Snape's animosity towards the young Longbottom was plain as day, and Iruka could clearly see him fighting to hold back some sort of acid remark.

In a less-than-promising start, Malfoy jumped the count, casting a Pimple Jinx before the match had officially begun. Neville was unfazed, however, and casually dodged the incoming spell before responding with a Tongue-Tying Hex. Actually, he _tried_ to; only a faint spark came out of the young Gryffindor's wand, guttering out before it had crossed even half the distance to the Malfoy scion. A vicious smirk crossed the pale boy's face at that point, and several more times he cast unpleasant but entirely permissible spells which were dodged and replied to with weak or failed spells by Neville. Mutters (some sympathetic, some derisive) and titters became increasingly common and loud among the spectators at each of the Longbottom heir's attempts to cast.

After three more exchanges, Malfoy placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "Come on, Longbottom," he drawled with a sneer, "I don't know why you even bother. It's not like everyone didn't already know that you're practically a squib. Pathetic, really, to see such a once-proud old family reduced to this..."

Neville's face had, as the taunt progressed, grown progressively stormier before shifting to a look of intense focus. He cut off the Slytherin's insults with a firmly-shouted " **Expelliarmus!** "

For the second time in one evening, the audience was treated to the sight of an until-that-point-perfectly-groomed blonde nitwit pinwheeling through the air in the opposite direction from his wand.

While Snape looked nearly ready to commit homicide, Lockhart was beaming. "Spectacular! Well done, Mister Longbottom, well done indeed. And Mister Malfoy, some excellent spellwork by you as well; do come back up here for a moment." The pale boy climbed somewhat dizzily back onto the stage, where Neville handed his wand back with polite (if clearly frosty) formality. "Let's have a hand for our first two duellists!" The Club's sponsor stood grinning between the two boys and basked in the applause that was directed at least close to him.

After dismissing Neville and Malfoy, Lockhart moved on to pairs from successively higher years. While it was entertaining, the actual educational content was fairly lacking; at the current rate, most of the students would be lucky to duel even a handful of times before the end of the year. After the seventh-year duel finished, Lockhart dismissed the Club for the evening. Speaking among themselves, S.E.N. concluded that they'd attend one more meeting, but stop after that if things didn't improve.

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 **A/N: Those of you who are** _ **spectacularly**_ **observant and/or pedantic might have noticed that December 17, 1992 (the official date of Lockhart's only Duelling Club meeting) was a Thursday. I am aware of this, but decided that Lockhart is just smart enough to recognize that there's already an activity on those evenings that could draw away potential** **fans** **members, including the Boy-Who-Lived. Thus, he bumps it back one evening. That puts it several hours** _ **after**_ **Justin was attacked in canon, which I only realized** _ **after**_ **writing the entire Duelling Club scene. The original version of that scene has ended up with the rest of my outtakes and deleted scenes.**

 **So yeah, Harry wasn't revealed as a parselmouth. Different circumstances, different results. There was really no practical way to show this in-story (at least not without being ham-fisted about the whole thing) but Lockhart's choice of duellists was no accident: Lucius heard about the Duelling Club from Draco over winter hols, and (whether directly or through Snape) suggested that particular matchup to Lockhart. He actually suggested that** _ **or**_ **Draco vs. Harry, but Lockhart has gotten the message that Harry prefers to avoid the spotlight, and is savvy enough on such matters to not piss off someone so potentially useful. As far as why those particular matches were suggested, there were a few factors: A poor showing by Neville and/or Harry would weaken their social/political standing and that of their family/allies; Neville makes an easy opponent and thus (in the logic of bullies) a good opportunity to show off strength and power; an official duel gives Draco license to cast painful and/or humiliating spells on his chosen victim without consequences. Lucius also took the opportunity afforded by advance warning to drill Draco in some suitable spells, and that combined with a desire to humiliate a perceived 'helpless' victim are why Draco didn't immediately jump to a showy spell like Serpensortia - it's his big showboating finish, and his plan was to gradually load Neville up with unpleasant but not disabling hexes for a while before finally finishing the match. That worked out** _ **so**_ **well for him, didn't it?**

 **The duel shows that Neville is ahead of where he was in canon - confident, focused, and coordinated enough to dodge relatively imprecise spellfire - but still has a long way to go. His biggest obstacle is still his father's wand: It belonged to an Auror, a warrior of light, and that doesn't align well with Neville's more peaceful nature (I'm borrowing that from a one-shot whose title I can't recall at the moment). For that last spell, Neville is concentrating hard, focusing his will and intent, which ends up combining with the wand actually agreeing with him for a change and his naturally high power level to massively overpower the Disarming spell. When he's not casting in the kind of hurry that a duel tends to require, he's better at getting at least some results from the wand than in this scene or this point in the canon, because he has time to gather his focus better.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Harry Potter and the Daughters of Fate" by McWhite - Just a fun little story in which the whole "Master of-" concept gets seriously messed with.**

 **Posted 29 July 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 63**


	38. 2-8: Threads

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Things remained relatively quiet for the next several weeks. A slight aura of nervousness still pervaded the castle, but for the most part everyone continued to go about their usual business. As Iruka and his students had expected, the Duelling Club's second meeting had been not more helpful than the first, and all had ended up deciding that it wasn't worth their time to attend further. In their training, all four children were making continued progress: They'd learned the basics of safely handling, carrying, storing, and maintaining shuriken and kunai, and begun including armed kata in their repertoire (holding blunt training weapons, of course). Iruka hoped to have them throwing shuriken by late March, and actually hitting targets somewhat reliably by November or December. Their physical and chakra training continued to progress as well.

It was the day after Luna's birthday party in the Room when the next oddity arose, and it truly was odd even by Hogwarts standards. Iruka had once glanced, during a visit to Hogsmeade, into Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, having heard various mentions of it among staff and students. The Hogwarts Great Hall, on the morning of the fourteenth, looked like Maito Gai had heard an exaggerated description of that establishment and decided to copy it while feeling particularly YOUTHful. Between the pink, the heart-shaped confetti, the pink, the flowers, and the pink, it made the word "gaudy" feel inadequate. A quick glance along the staff table made it abundantly clear whose idea the whole mess was, to Iruka's utter lack of surprise.

Gilderoy Lockhart sat there, grinning like a loon and wearing robes so eye-meltingly pink as to make the decorations in the Great Hall look tame by comparison. From the expressions on his colleagues' faces, it was clear that Iruka wasn't the only staff member less than impressed with the buffoon's efforts. While Iruka at least passably understood the playful romance-themed holiday being celebrated, he wasn't at all certain he liked an adult teacher bragging so publicly about how many cards he'd received from his mostly-underage students. And then he called in his 'Cupids'...

Where was a Yamanaka memory specialist when you really, desperately needed to forget something _right now_?!

Then, of course, the pink-clad peacock dragged Snape and Filius into his insanity, leaving the latter mortified and the former clearly contemplating what potions ingredients he could render the Defense Professor into.

The dwarves had all been ejected from the castle (after ensuring that Lockhart paid them everything they were owed) after an incident involving one of them being so determined to deliver someone's singing Valentine to Harry that he made the mistake of grabbing the second-year. Eighteen months earlier, this would have resulted in desperate but ultimately futile struggling by the young Gryffindor, but Iruka's lessons (and a potions regimen and proper diet on Madam Pomfrey's orders) had left Harry in greatly improved physical shape. The training on how to deal with an attacker trying to tackle you also helped.

Harry's bookbag had been torn asunder after the dwarf grabbed it in his attempts to keep Harry in place. When the young wizard had again tried to make his escape, the dwarf opted for a leg-tackle, and ended up eating floorstone for his troubles. Standing beside the ruins of his school supplies and a concussed diaper-clad dwarf, Harry had turned to a Prefect present and made a complaint of being assaulted. This was hard to refute given that the Prefect in question (Percy Weasley, as it happened) had witnessed the altercation along with a number of other students. After the dwarves were rounded up, paid, and given the boot, Lockhart had been given a stern lecture by Minerva, the school's resident expert on all things stern, regarding proper protocols for bringing visitors to the castle, harassment of the students, and quite a few other things that crossed her mind as she went on. It was very impressive, and continued for over ten minutes as Iruka (and some other members of staff) surreptitiously took notes.

To top it all off, Lockhart was also made to pay to replace Harry's ruined items. Needless to say despite how well it started for him, the DADA teacher did _not_ have a happy Valentine's Day.

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The next few weeks were not the most pleasant for Harry. His somewhat violent takedown of the dwarf (really quite gentle, by shinobi standards) had grown in its retellings through the Hogwarts rumor mill, as tends to happen. While a portion of those who witnessed or heard about the incident recognized that Harry was merely defending himself as best he knew how, teenagers and preteens aren't exactly known for their level-headedness or critical thinking skills. Many students now apparently believed that he had, in order to interrupt a singing Valentine, savagely beaten a perfectly innocent dwarf to death. Some of his schoolmates, particularly a group of second-year Hufflepuffs, had taken to avoiding Harry whenever possible, or at least giving him a wide berth in the corridors. A few had even begun to speculate that _he_ was the Heir of Slytherin. The Weasley twins, always sharper than most adults gave them credit for, had quickly taken to preceding Harry down the halls, often calling out things like "Make way for Harry Potter, vanquisher of ill-tempered Cupids!" and "Beware the approach of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Serenaded!" It helped to both lighten Harry's spirits and cause a few of the less-committed Harry-fearers to realize the absurdity of what they had been led to believe.

Iruka adjusted the taijutsu portion of his lessons in response to the whole mess: Due to the looming threat of the Heir of Slytherin, he'd been focusing on techniques for defending against a lethal threat, techniques that tended to be on the more violent and damaging side. He now began putting more emphasis back on techniques suited to less severe encounters, and on providing his students with a proper continuum of force to work with. Hopefully, the next time a non-threatening person tried to tackle one of them, they'd be able to deflect and restrain their attacker without causing serious injury.

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As Easter Break approached, the three second-year members of S.E.N. were considering their choice of electives for the coming years. Neville had received letters from virtually every member of his extended family giving their (often conflicting) advice on which subjects were best to take and why. Hermione, even with her academic mania calmed somewhat, was still talking about finding a way to take all five courses. Harry was just plain lost. None of them, it turned out, were particularly clear on what each elective entailed and what careers each might be useful in.

"Enter!" Minerva's voice rang out in response to Iruka's knock, and enter he did, followed by his students. "Good afternoon," she greeted with a slight smile, "Iruka, children. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Well," the chuunin replied, gesturing to the second-years, "these three were talking about things, and asking for my advice, and I found that I simply don't know enough to really help them, so I figured you'd be the best person to speak to. Luna came along because they're all friends, and it's information she'll need eventually anyway."

The older witch nodded, and with a wave of her wand conjured additional chairs; unlike the overstuffed armchairs the Headmaster favored, his Deputy provided simple, utilitarian wooden chairs with high backs and surprisingly comfortable seats. "Please, sit." They did. "Now, what is it you were discussing that you required additional information on?"

"Well," Harry chimed in, "we were talking about picking our electives for next year. Hermione wants to take all of them, Neville's got loads of letters from his family saying what he should and shouldn't take, and I'm just confused about what the classes are really about and what they're used for."

"I tried to help," Iruka continued, "but I'm still new enough to this country to not really have the complete picture, so to speak."

"I see," Minerva replied thoughtfully, "and it's likely that some of the other second-year Gryffindors have similar questions. I shall have to make it clear to them that I am available to answer their questions on the subject."

"As you are aware," she continued, "there are five electives available beginning in Third Year, of which all students are required to take a minimum of two."

"The Study of Ancient Runes is, in earlier years, primarily a language course. Students learn to decipher various runic languages, and to scribe and engrave runes themselves. In its later years the class begins to cover the usage of runes in magic, a topic not entirely dissimilar to the 'seals' you are all familiar with. Runes are primarily used in the creation and anchoring of long-term and permanent magical effects upon objects and locations. A thorough grounding in Runes is therefore essential for any profession involving the creation of such effects, such as warders and enchanters, or the dismantling of existing effects by cursebreakers and the like."

"Arithmancy begins with basic numerology, the study of the magical properties of numbers and how they interact with each other and with magic and the world. At more advanced levels, the course covers the calculations involved in understanding magical effects. These calculations are essential in the crafting of new spells and potions, and in analyzing existing magics. Aspiring warders, enchanters, and cursebreakers again will find this field essential, but so will spellcrafters, Potions masters, and others that seek to research magic and its many mysteries."

"Care of Magical Creatures is essentially a counterpart to Herbology. In it, students learn about many forms of magical fauna, though some creatures are discussed more in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Obviously, anyone who might wish to work with magical beasts of any sort would be well-advised to take this class. This not only includes the more apparent careers, such as dragon-handling or magizoology, but also wandmaking and others that utilize parts or products from magical creatures. A Potions master would thus benefit from such knowledge, as would a master Herbologist." At this last point, she looked meaningfully at Neville, whose expression showed that he clearly understood the message and would likely be signing up for Care as an elective.

"I must confess to being somewhat biased regarding the subject of Divination," Minerva continued hesitantly, "as I have never seen any convincing evidence of its validity. There are, supposedly, seers and prophets, but those with such gifts are by all accounts extraordinarily rare. Without the necessary innate talent, I fear that Divination is not a subject which can be readily taught, and I have always found it something of a wooly subject to be perfectly frank. Obviously, if any of you _did_ have the Sight, then training to make best use of it could be beneficial to you, but without that I cannot honestly recommend the class."

"Muggle Studies is a course intended for those raised entirely in the Wizarding world, to help them better understand our nonmagical neighbors. At least in theory, sufficient study should help students of the subject to pass as Muggles without arousing suspicion, and to function in their society without a reliance on Confundus Charms and Memory Charms. Given that two of the three of you are Muggle-raised, I don't see the class being of any real use to you, although Mister Longbottom might benefit from it, particularly with you to advise him. Alternatively, you could simply teach him about Muggle life yourselves, a sort of self-study if you will, and any or all of you could still sign up to take the O.W.L. and possibly N.E.W.T. exams in the subject in a few years."

Iruka broke in at this point. "From what I've heard, it seems like the current Muggle Studies curriculum may be more than a little outdated. The nonmagical world changes very rapidly, but to my knowledge the textbook is at this point decades old."

Minerva looked somewhat sheepish, though she made a good effort at concealing that expression. "I am afraid that certain... _political interests_ with influence in both the Ministry and the Board of Governors consider Muggles unimportant and have for quite some time been blocking attempts to modernize the Muggle Studies curriculum. Thankfully, the Wizarding Examinations Authority enjoys a considerable degree of independence, and while they will give passing grades to those whose knowledge of Muggles comes solely from the course materials, the examiners for the Muggle Studies O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. are aware of more accurate and up-to-date information and will mark accordingly."

Hermione looked less than pleased, but firmed her resolve. "I'd still like to take the courses, Professor," she stated. "Even if I don't have the Sight, or the Gift, or whatever it is, it would still be interesting to learn _about_ Divination, and while I obviously don't need to learn about Muggle life, taking the class could teach me about Wizarding perspectives on the Muggle world."

The Gryffindor Head looked upon her star pupil with a fond smile and a quiet exasperated sigh. "Given your exemplary academic record thus far, I will permit you to make the attempt on a trial basis. Actually scheduling such a courseload alongside your existing classwork and extracurricular activities may prove difficult, however. There is a solution that is employed on the rare occasions where it is necessary, though I shall have to speak with the Headmaster before promising its use."

With that, Hermione eagerly signed up for all five electives, while Harry and Neville each ended up selecting Runes, Arithmancy, and Care. They had both, after some discussion, decided upon the classes they felt would be most useful and give them the most options in the coming years.

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It was the next day that Iruka received a message via 'House-Elf Express' that Luna had found something he needed to see. He was soon approaching a group of windows in a second-floor corridor, his youngest student standing nearby like a somewhat surprised-looking signpost. "You said you'd found something, Luna?"

She nodded. "Yes, Iruka-sensei, you and the Headmaster told us to watch for anything out of the ordinary, and I'm rather certain that spiders don't ordinarily behave like that." She pointed towards the corner of the far window.

Looking closely, Iruka could indeed see a remarkably orderly line of spiders quickly making their way up to and out through the open window, even seeming to use an anchored line of silk to abseil down the castle wall. Given the presence of several different varieties of spider, and the fact that spiders were generally known to be solitary to the point of cannibalism even within their own species, this phenomenon definitely qualified as odd. Flippy was soon on her way to summon Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Most unusual," the elder wizard commented at the sight, "this is indeed most extraordinary behavior. I shall speak with Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn directly, to see if they may shed some light on the cause, but for now we may consider this a possible clue. Well done, Miss Lovegood, well done indeed. Ten points to Ravenclaw for your keen observational skills."

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A brief meeting with the whole of S.E.N. followed in the Headmaster's office. The news of the spiders was shared, drawing a comment from Hermione that it tickled at her memory somewhat, but she'd need to look over her notes and sources to figure out if it was something relevant.

This led the four students and one ninja to head to Gryffindor Tower. Iruka and Luna stood outside waiting while Hermione checked her accumulated research notes. After about fifteen minutes, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open once again to disgorge the trio of second-years, mid-conversation.

"...figure out who's attacking people, and get them out of the castle for good." Harry's voice was firm, bold, and reassuring.

"Any luck?" Iruka asked.

The three Gryffindors shook their heads. "I've got a few ideas," Hermione replied, "but they're more along the lines of which books we need to check again. We need to head to the Library."

Down the five trooped, ensconcing themselves at Hermione's favorite table as the bushy-haired witch pulled books off the shelves and distributed them among the group along with advice regarding where to look and for what. Half an hour passed in near silence, with only the rustling of pages and the occasional soft mutter the only sound, before Neville's voice echoed through the Library with a string of words that would likely have drawn a sharp rebuke from his grandmother.

Waving off an incensed librarian, Iruka turned to his now chalk-white student. "You have something, Neville?"

"I hope not, Sensei, I really, _really_ hope not." The boy turned the book and pushed it forward for them all to read the passage he was indicating with a shaky finger:

'Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.'

"A snake, capable of killing instantly, that scares spiders and can be killed by a rooster." Neville's composure was still cracked, but he had pulled himself together as the rest read. "It matches too well to be a coincidence. The big things this doesn't explain are where it's coming from, who's controlling it, how it's getting around the castle, and how the petrifications factor in." They all descended into quiet thought.

"Pipes!" Hermione said suddenly. "Sensei, you and Harry heard it _in_ the walls, right?" Both nodded. "Maybe it's slithering through the plumbing! That'd let it get around the school without being seen. Assuming there are hidden exits, it could even pop up somewhere to attack." The silence following this statement was significantly more worried.

Harry was the next to provide an insight. "The petrifications... What if that's what happens if you see its eyes, but not _directly_? Mrs. Norris could have seen its reflection in the water pooled outside the toilet, Colin through his camera, Justin through Nearly-Headless Nick who got the full blast of it but couldn't exactly die _again_ , and the previous time would be reflections off the lake, the window, and the mirror the girl was checking her makeup in."

Iruka's eyebrows rose. "That makes sense. The indirect viewing must filter or weaken the gaze somehow, not enough to make it harmless but enough to petrify. Then, once the victim is petrified, they can't see anything so the gaze can't affect them further. Good thinking Harry, Hermione, and good find, Neville. Flippy!" The elf popped in. "Go to Headmaster Dumbledore immediately, and inform him that we think we know what is responsible for the student petrifications, and we'll meet him in his office directly unless told otherwise."

Flippy nodded somewhat fearfully and departed on her errand as Iruka and his students quickly tidied their workspace and made for the Headmaster's Office. They had gotten as far as the Library doors when Headmaster Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the castle. "ALL STUDENTS AND FACULTY, ASSEMBLE IN THE GREAT HALL IMMEDIATELY."

A look passed among the group as they turned towards the Great Hall. "There must have been another attack," Hermione said with growing trepidation, "but something must be different this time. You don't think..."

Iruka's face took on a stony cast. "If someone has killed a student, I promise that it is the _last_ mistake they are ever going to make."

* * *

 **A/N: What's going on? I'm sure most of you can guess, but still, cliffhangers are a tradition in Iruka's home setting. So, the pieces are coming together and our heroes are beginning to see the picture, but they don't know everything yet. I wanted to make sure that all of them got to contribute in some important way, which is why Iruka noted the importance of the roosters, Luna spotted the spiders, Hermione directed the research and later realized the Basilisk's use of plumbing, Neville identified the monster, and Harry figured out the petrifications.**

 **The key factors in how nobody figured out until now that it was a Basilisk are: They didn't have confirmation that there even** _ **was**_ **a monster; they didn't know it was serpentine (even if they should have suspected); they were looking for something that** _ **petrified**_ **rather than something that** _ **instantly killed**_ **; they may well not have had the clues of the dead roosters and/or fleeing spiders. Maybe if Dippet and the Ministry hadn't been happy to blame the whole mess on Hagrid and Aragog and treat it as a problem solved, deeper inquiry might have produced some results.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "New Plan" by dunuelos - A short story of the Third Hokage putting some of Naruto's detractors in their place.**

 **Posted 12 August 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 63**


	39. 2-9: Chamber

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

As the five arrived at the Great Hall, they met Headmaster Dumbledore and the four Heads of House. Filius looked upon Luna with relief, while Minerva's expression upon seeing the group was a strange mix of relief and pained resignation. Pomona simply looked worried, and Snape's dark expression was unreadable. Albus turned to the approaching group, his face a stony mask that softened somewhat at the sight of them. "Iruka, children, it is good to see that you are all well. Unfortunately, we have a most dire situation. Pomona, Minerva," he turned to the Heads of House, "remain here with the students, and once we have departed you must close off every entrance. _Do not_ open them again to anyone that is unable to send a Patronus message requesting entry. I cannot stress that instruction enough; the lives of every student in that Hall may well depend upon it." The two witches nodded with resolve, and stepped into the Great Hall.

"The rest of you," he continued in a tone of command, "come with me, and I shall show you the site of the latest incident. I shall endeavor to explain as we walk, but we must hurry, for I fear that time is of the essence and that a young girl's life hangs in the balance."

"Headmaster," Snape drawled coldly, "I must protest. Students have no place in these discussions."

Already striding towards the stairs fast enough that Filius had to jog to keep up, Albus spoke over his shoulder without slowing. "And yet, Severus, it was these students who are reported to have determined the identity of Slytherin's legendary monster, something which perhaps they might share with us?"

Iruka took the lead, relating their conclusion and the evidence and reasoning that led to it in the clear, rapid tones of a battlefield report. The three other wizards looked thoughtful. "I cannot find fault with your conclusions," Snape bit out with a scowl that betrayed just how unhappy he was with that fact.

"Indeed," Albus added, "it explains a great deal which was previously unclear. Unfortunately, it also makes the situation even more dangerous than I had feared." He brought his wand tip to his temple for a moment, before drawing it away trailing what looked like a particularly wispy memory and incanting " **Expecto Patronum Lotor**!". A luminous silver phoenix shot from the wand back down the corridor towards the Great Hall. "Minerva and the others should now be forewarned, for whatever good that may do against such a monstrous enemy. As for our part of the report, another message has been found near the previous one, and based on a headcount of the students, we can only conclude that it refers to Ginevra Weasley." This produced a gasp of horror from Luna. "I have tasked young Percival to pen a letter to his parents, and an elf to carry it. Amelia Bones of the DMLE has also been notified, and will hopefully be gathering Aurors as we speak."

Soon they reached the corridor outside the girls' toilet occupied by 'Moaning' Myrtle. Just below the original message was a new one, also scrawled in blood: "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."

"Ginny..." Luna whimpered tearfully. Iruka placed a firm hand on her shoulder, giving what little reassurance he could offer.

Neville, meanwhile, was wearing a thoughtful frown. "Headmaster," he spoke up, "the girl that was killed last time - was it Myrtle?"

Albus nodded somberly. "It was indeed Ms. Warren. She was found in this washroom, just beyond the stall which she haunts to this day."

The two boys looked at each other, seeming to reach the same conclusion. "Three of the incidents right here, the Basilisk using the pipes," Harry listed off, "could the entrance to the Chamber be in the bathroom somewhere?"

The adults' eyebrows rose in near-unison. "An interesting question, Mr. Potter," stated Filius, "and one which we should investigate immediately. You children remain out here, for the moment, until we have confirmed that the room is presently safe." He nodded to Snape, and the two approached the door with wands drawn. A quick charm snapped the door open suddenly, and the two wizards surged inside, swiftly and efficiently sweeping the room for threats while ignoring the indignant protests of the late Myrtle Warren.

"You shouldn't be in here, this is a _girls'_ washroom!" Her scolding came in a voice that sounded lugubrious and slightly damp. "Of course, nobody ever cares about poor, lonely Myrtle, except when they're teasing me or throwing books at me. Even that little red-headed girl just ignored me when I tried to talk to her, just hissed."

"Ginny!" the children exclaimed together.

"She hissed?" Harry asked urgently, "Where? What happened?"

"Don't know," Myrtle replied morosely, "when she ignored me I went back to my stall, then I heard that _hissing_ sound like that boy just before I died, and the next time I came out she'd gone."

"It's in here." Harry's voice was resolute. "It's in here, and it must take Parseltongue to open." This prompted the group to begin searching, until Filius called their attention to a small, nearly unnoticeable engraving of a snake on the side of a non-functional tap.

"It would seem that a rescue mission is not entirely impossible," said the Headmaster. "Iruka, Harry, I shall want you to assist me. Severus, Filius, take the rest of the children back to the Great Hall."

While Snape looked indignant over something, Filius cut in sharply. "That won't do, Albus. You'd be best placed in the Great Hall, in case the Basilisk is brought out again to threaten the student body. Your duty is to _all_ of the students, and I cannot permit you to place hundreds of them in greater danger for the sake of one. If a rescue must be attempted, then it should be Severus and/or myself rather than you. I am also uncertain of why you require Mr. Potter or Professor Umino to participate, though I have my suspicions."

Albus seemed to age twenty years in as many seconds at Filius's words. "You are of course correct, Filius. In that case, it would be best if you accompanied Iruka and Harry on this task - Iruka would have an easier time carrying you than Severus should an expeditious retreat become necessary. As for why the two of them, such are their secrets to divulge and not mine, though you will doubtless learn of some of them today. Come, Severus, children, we have tarried long enough as it is."

As the five left, the three students throwing worried looks back as they went, Filius turned to Harry. "I presume, Mister Potter, that you are a Parselmouth?" At Harry's surprised nod, he continued. "Then please, see if you can gain us entry."

Harry turned to the tap with a look of concentration, before a viscerally unsettling hiss came from his mouth. The tap flashed white, and the entire sink began to spin, before sink _ing_ downwards to reveal a gaping pipe well over a meter across.

Iruka, meanwhile, had shucked his robes and begun unsealing and donning his equipment under the curious gaze of the Charms Professor in between the diminutive man's glances towards Harry and the sink. A few Sticking Charms took the place of the cloth wraps that normally secured certain items and shaved several minutes off the process. Finally, he stood and pulled out two kunai. "We should all have as many tools as possible," he stated, holding them out pommel-first. "Filius, could you transfigure a couple of sheaths for the two of you?

The Ravenclaw Head pulled a scrap of parchment from his pocket, which soon became a simple leather sheath stuck to Harry's hip, before waving off the second kunai and pulling an ornate but still clearly functional dagger from his own robes. "I am part goblin, my dear Professor; I _always_ carry a blade."

Iruka nodded while Harry sheathed the blade he'd been handed. "You should know that I fight mostly with bladed weapons and close combat, though I do have other abilities. I'm also faster, more agile, and more mobile than most people, which is probably why I'm being sent along. I'll go down first, then call up for you two. We'll need Harry to come with us in case there are more Parseltongue-locked doors, or in case this one closes behind us." Once Filius nodded, the chuunin drew and lit his wand, stepped into the pipe, and dropped away.

The pipe quickly turned from near-vertical to a more manageable slope, though Iruka remained ready to halt his slide with chakra if the need arose. He kept his wand out in his left hand, shining its beam ahead of him to give at least some warning of any upcoming hazards. Thankfully, though many smaller pipes branched off at various points, it was a smooth (if somewhat disorienting) journey. Finally, after what felt like a descent of dozens of meters, the steep slope came nearly level, before Iruka shot out into open air. He easily landed in a graceful crouch in a dark, roughly-carved stone tunnel. A quick scan of his surroundings showed no immediate threats, and so he called up as loudly as he dared. "It's clear!" While he waited, he busied himself casting a quick Cushioning Charm over the 'landing area'. Soon enough, Harry emerged, rolling his landing thanks to his training in S.E.N., followed twenty seconds later by Filius who performed a surprisingly similar and agile roll.

After checking to make sure everyone was unharmed, the three set off down the tunnel still in the order Iruka-Harry-Filius, with the admonishment to close their eyes at the first sign of trouble. Iruka quickly did a couple small hops and a walk onto the wall and ceiling to give Filius some idea of his capabilities, and he knew that if they made it back alive the Ravenclaw Head would be as enthusiastic for more information as Hermione had been.

Soon, they began to see increasing numbers of small animal bones littering the floor of the tunnel. They picked their way through carefully, occasionally aided by small Banishing or Vanishing spells to allow them to find footing that wouldn't announce them with a loud crunch. Rounding one bend in the tunnel brought them to a shed skin in a poisonous green. "What do you think, Filius - six, maybe seven meters?"

"At least," the Charms Master quietly replied, "and remember that snakes shed their skins when they outgrow them, so it can only be _larger_ than this. Also, while I may be the one most affected by this issue, I should remind you both that Basilisks are tremendously resistant to magic, not unlike dragons. Their skin is also tough, though not quite as tough as dragonhide, so physical attack will be difficult as well."

"This is a rescue mission," Iruka reminded them both, "so actually fighting that Basilisk is _not_ our objective. I'll be happiest if we can get in, get Ms. Weasley, and get back out without anybody doing any fighting. I'm just not optimistic that we'll get that lucky."

Another later bend in the tunnel revealed what almost seemed a dead end: A solid wall of stone blocked the way forward, adorned with a pair of carved snakes wound around each other with sparkling emeralds inset as their eyes. Harry hissed at this wall, causing the snakes to animate and slither apart on the stone, before the wall parted in the middle and slid aside to open the passage onward.

Just past the barrier, the tunnel opened out into a cavernous chamber stretching both forward and upward beyond the dim, sickly green light of torches burning with heatless and smokeless magical flames. Its high ceiling (wherever it was up there) was supported by tall pillars carved with a motif of winding snakes. The three rescuers advanced cautiously, sticking near the pillars in case they found themselves suddenly in need of cover. This proximity only highlighted the skill with which the pillars had been carved, as the snakes looked very lifelike, their eyes seeming to follow the trio and their bodies almost seeming to move in the flickering torchlight. Overall, the effect was not exactly comforting, and Iruka did a genjutsu release just to be on the safe side.

As they approached the far end of the chamber, two things came into view. The first was a towering stone statue at least fifteen meters tall depicting a dour, monkeyish old wizard with a long, narrow beard. The second was a tiny figure with fiery red hair lying between the statue's feet.

A hand on Harry's shoulder kept him from rushing forward unsupported, but the three wizards nevertheless advanced quickly towards the prone girl. Knowing Harry's attention would be focused on her, Iruka kept his directed outward, wary of threats, and noticed Filius dividing his attention between the two tasks. As they reached Ginny, Harry knelt down, dropping his wand, and shaking her shoulders, whispering her name interspersed with exhortations to not be dead. Filius cast a quick diagnostic charm over her, and frowned at the results. "She's alive," he said, "but in a deep sleep, and her vital signs are weak and gradually fading. We need to revive her, or failing that get her to Madam Pomfrey, as soon as possible."

"She won't wake." Iruka was startled by the soft voice - he hadn't heard, seen, nor otherwise sensed _anyone_ but the four of them - and turned to see a young man leaning against a nearby pillar where he could _swear_ there hadn't been anyone moments before. The boy had dark hair and pale skin, with handsome aristocratic features and a lean build, appearing to be in his mid-teens, but he was also somewhat blurry at the edges, as if he were more of an image than a real person.

Iruka kept his wand out, but also brought his right hand towards his kunai holster. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" His question was more of a demand. "You're wearing Slytherin robes and a Prefect badge, but you're not any of the current Slytherin Prefects."

"He's not a current student of _any_ type of any House," Filius chimed in, his wand leveled at the boy while his eyes continued to scan the Chamber warily.

"I'm a memory," the figure replied, pointing to a small black book on the floor at the statue's toes, "Preserved in a diary for fifty years. Tom Riddle, at your service." He finished with a slight, somewhat mocking bow.

Iruka's eyes narrowed. "Tom _Marvolo_ Riddle, or as your later self preferred to be called, Lord Voldemort?" He heard both Harry and Filius gasp in shock. "A mass-murderer with delusions of godhood and a fondness for attacking noncombatants."

While Riddle's smile had grown at the mention of his _nom de guerre_ , his expression had quickly turned to one of petulant rage as Iruka continued. " **Crucio**!" he bellowed, and the chuunin carefully sidestepped the notorious Torture Curse. "You will learn _respect_ for your betters." He ignored whatever spell Filius shot in response, as it passed through his form as if he were no more substantial than mist. Unwilling to give the psychotic spectre the chance to try again, Iruka dashed forward at his best speed, easily snatching the wand from the startled shade's hand before hopping back to his companions and passing the wand to Filius, who then turned his attention to the diary. The diminutive former champion duelist shot a rapid barrage of spells at the seemingly innocuous book, and though the floor _around_ the diary showed that many of those spells were quite destructive, the diary itself remained strangely unaffected. "I see the half-breed is well placed in Ravenclaw," Riddle sneered, "but it won't help you. None of you have the power to destroy that which I have created."

"Perhaps Severus might have been the better choice," Filius commented sourly. "With his knowledge of Dark magic he might be able to destroy whatever that diary is. Nothing I know of can survive Fiendfyre, and he and the Headmaster are the only ones I know that might be able to cast it without killing everyone in the Chamber. If we can get it to them quickly enough, we may yet be able to save Ms. Weasley and shut this _thing_ up." He gestured to Riddle with his last comment.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Riddle drawled. "I require the remainder of that foolish girl's life-force if I am to be fully reconstituted. As for the rest of you, well, let's see how you deal with the _true_ power of the Heir of Slytherin!" At this, he turned to the statue and hissed loudly at it, and the statue responded, in a way: Its mouth began to slowly open. The moment Iruka saw movement in the dark hole that resulted, he snapped his eyes shut and called for Harry and Filius to do the same before leaping away from the statue to stand nearer the center of the Chamber.

It was time to see if a shinobi could kill a basilisk.

* * *

 **A/N: Cliffy again! Muahahaha!**

 **Anyway, at least half of the last chapter and all of this chapter were written over the course of a few hours. Sometimes I have to fight to get every paragraph on the page, and sometimes the story just flows. As I write this, I've already got a** _ **version**_ **of the upcoming fight written, actually written before I wrote Chapter 1, but events since then have changed my plans so it needs reworking. Details will be in the A/N of that chapter, and the original version will be lumped with my other outtakes/omakes/deleted scenes and posted if/when people express interest in such. It probably won't be substantially different though.**

 **ADDITION FROM JUST BEFORE POSTING: Yeah, it wasn't very different. Speaking of chapters that fight me, I'm _almost_ done writing Chapter 63...**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Lost in the Woods" by Ardwolf - After an argument with Q, the Enterprise ends up _very_ far from home, with the nearest ship a certain Firefly-class mid-bulk transport...**

 **Posted 26 August 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 63**


	40. 2-10: Basilisk

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

Iruka heard a truly enormous Basilisk slithering out of the statue's mouth, like some grotesque tongue. 'I hadn't figured Salazar Slytherin for a fan of puns...' Iruka shook off the random thought, shouting "Harry, Filius, stay with Ginny - he can't risk killing her! And keep your eyes closed until I say otherwise!" The boy and professor did as they were told, not wanting to get in his way or risk meeting the Basilisk's deadly gaze.

Closing his own eyes, Iruka took note of where he could sense the Basilisk's position, tracking it as he quickly reached into one of his holsters to grab a quartet of kunai with explosive tags attached. Figuring that a direct hit, especially without clear sight, would be practically impossible for him, he went for the next best thing, aiming two for about where the Basilisk's eyes should be and using the other two to bracket the sides of its head. As he expected, the snake tried to duck below the projectiles. 'Just like Anko-san's summons,' he noted of the reaction, grinning as he detonated all four tags as they passed near their target. The echoes of the violent explosion were joined by inhuman screams from Slytherin's pet. 'Okay, maybe not exactly like Anko's summons...'

A hissing shout came from Riddle's position, and Harry called "He's telling it to track you by smell!" Iruka responded by leaping behind one of the support pillars, pulling a signal mirror from one of his vest pouches - just because it sounded like the Basilisk was blind, he wasn't taking any unnecessary chances - and confirmed through the reflection that both of the Basilisk's eyes had been ruptured by the force of the nearby explosions. He was given a much closer look moments later as the Basilisk dashed towards him, clearly still able to track him, forcing him to retreat up the column and leap off when the snake smashed through the stone pillar instead of going around it. As he went, he called back that Harry and Filius could open their eyes.

Under ordinary circumstances, Iruka would have used a quick diversion and hidden himself, erasing his presence as much as possible in hopes of creating an opening. That option wasn't available here, however, with three friendlies in the battle zone, two of which would almost certainly be targeted at the first opportunity if the Basilisk's attention wasn't kept focused elsewhere.

What followed was a bizarre (at least by non-shinobi standards) game of cat-and-mouse. The Basilisk would pursue Iruka, who would evade its attacks and try to counter with his own, never moving so far away as to make Harry a more inviting target. He stayed high whenever he could, since lifting its bulk off the ground cost the snake in both mobility and reach. Filius joined the fray and did what he could in support, trying to divert the Basilisk's attention and protect Iruka when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately, while Iruka's mobility and training kept him ahead of his pursuer, he didn't have anything that could inflict noticeable damage on it. Stories of the Basilisk's protective scales were clearly not exaggerated, as kunai failed to penetrate and Iruka's best fire jutsu left only superficial scorch marks. As fast as the Basilisk was moving, hitting its damaged eyes directly was proving difficult, and the snake was clearly smart enough to keep its mouth closed to protect the vulnerable soft tissue within. He even attempted to use a simple but relatively potent genjutsu, but his adversary was clearly resistant or immune on that front as well. Judging by the trivial scoring on the snake's tough skin, Filius wasn't faring any better.

As is often the case in battle, the stalemate was broken by a stroke of luck. When the Basilisk smashed through a third pillar, a fist-sized fragment clipped Iruka, throwing off his dodge just enough for the snake's tail to catch him with a powerful blow. The resultant aerial tumble came to an abrupt and painful halt against another of the Chamber's pillars. Unfortunately, Iruka had far less success than his opponent at smashing through, and instead slid down to rest in a sitting position against the pillar's base.

Everything hurt. After what was likely one of the worst hits he had ever suffered, it was all Iruka could manage just to hold onto consciousness, but still he tried to regain his feet. No way - NO WAY was he giving up while he had students to protect. He just needed a few minutes to recover and he'd be back in the fight. Slytherin's Basilisk, though, wasn't going to give him those minutes. It knew that the prey that had hurt it was now helpless, and it was finally time to eat. The king of serpents struck, its mouth gaping and its fangs extended, ready to kill. 'Oh,' he thought distantly, 'of course _now_ it opens its mouth...'

The squelching crunch of flesh being pierced was, surprisingly, not accompanied by the stabbing pain of impalement or the burning of deadly venom. Instead, Iruka saw Harry standing before him, having dodged between the Basilisk's fangs and into its gaping mouth. His student had wielded the kunai he'd passed him earlier, using the Basilisk's own momentum to drive the weapon into the roof of its mouth so deeply that only part of the hilt was visible.

After a moment in which the world seemed to pause, everything surged back into motion. The Basilisk recoiled, opening its mouth as wide as its jaws would allow to try and escape the blade piercing its flesh, as Harry leapt back towards his teacher, avoiding the fangs again as they pulled away. A quick scan of the Chamber also showed Filius taking advantage of everyone else's distraction to pull his unconscious student to a less exposed position. The Basilisk continued to thrash, shrieking in pain, before slamming to the floor and going still.

Harry remained, standing between his teacher and the now-enraged shade of Tom Riddle, pointing his wand at the latter, and growled out "You already took my parents and my childhood from me, but I've found a new home and a new family, and YOU WILL NOT TOUCH THEM AGAIN!"

Suddenly, for a brief moment, Iruka was transported to another time and place. The ophidian pillar he was sat against was a tree, the shade of a budding Dark Lord replaced with a traitorous colleague and supposed friend, and the young man in between them garbed in an atrocious orange tracksuit instead of black wizarding robes. In that moment, Iruka knew that somehow, Riddle was the only one that wouldn't leave the Chamber that day.

"That's one problem solved," called Filius, "but Miss Weasley is fading rapidly! We need to get that diary to someone that can destroy it!"

"Don't waste your time," Riddle drawled angrily, "that book is layered with every protective enchantment I could cast on it. Your pathetic spells and Muggle weapons will never touch it. Did you think I would entrust a piece of my immortality to mere paper and leather?"

As the nearly-solid shade continued to boast, Iruka spotted it. Lying beside the dead Basilisk was the hilt of Harry's kunai, with nothing but pitted, smoking steel where the blade should be. It must have pierced a venom sac - no wonder the snake had died: Anko had mentioned once that many venomous snakes weren't immune to their own venom. What mattered now, though, was if venom that could obliterate steel and kill the King of Serpents would be enough to overcome the protections on that diary. "Basilisk fang, venom," he managed to gasp out to Harry.

After a moment of confusion Harry clearly understood his teacher's meaning, hurrying over to the Basilisk's corpse, calling to Filius to bring the diary. He tried prying or breaking one of the fangs out of the snake's mouth, but it remained firmly attached. "Good thinking!" Filius cried as he dashed over, "Basilisk venom is one of the most destructive substances known to wizardkind!" Meanwhile, Riddle's smug anger was rapidly morphing to shock and fear - this, more than anything else, told Iruka he'd guessed right.

"No, stop, stay away from there! **Accio** diary! **Accio** wand! **Accio** knife!" Riddle shouted, extending his hand first towards the three wizards. After the first two targets proved too tightly-held to Summon away, Iruka watched as one of his previously-thrown kunai flew to the shade, who grabbed it and dashed towards the two still standing, clearly intent on killing them without magic if he had to. Noticing this, Filius yelled to Harry to just hold the fang steady.

As Harry complied, Filius gripped the diary by its edges, and rammed it straight onto the fang's tip. Unlike the spells before, the Basilisk fang pierced into the diary, and the resultant hole gushed what looked to be black ink in a way disturbingly reminiscent of blood from a mortal wound. Riddle's charge was halted as the shade dropped his stolen weapon and screamed, clutching at the holes that seemed to appear throughout his form before dissipating like smoke.

The two upright wizards panted as their adrenaline began to abate, before a faint moan had Harry dashing over to where Filius had stashed Ginny. "She's waking up!" he called. Filius shot Iruka a questioning look of concern, but Iruka simply nodded and waved him away. After a couple minutes of quiet conversation that Iruka really couldn't make out in his current state, all three came over and Filius began casting over Iruka.

"Three cracked ribs, two broken, a concussion, and quite a lot of bruising. I'm afraid I don't have the skills to help more than this." At that statement, Filius's wand disgorged a mass of bandages that wrapped Iruka's torso to stabilize his rib fractures somewhat. He then cast the same messenger spell the Headmaster had used earlier, though in this case the silvery creature was some sort of small mammal, possibly a squirrel, but between its speed and his concussion Iruka couldn't be sure. "There, that should let Albus know the most vital information. He can debrief us fully when he gets us out of this miserable, albeit impressive, hole."

As if in reply, a hauntingly beautiful crooning echoed throughout the Chamber, heralding the arrival of Fawkes the phoenix in a burst of flames. The magnificent bird flew down to hover before the four of them, still singing joyously, his song lifting their spirits and easing Iruka's pain somewhat.

"Of course!" Filius crowed excitedly, "Phoenixes can carry immensely heavy loads, and can travel near-instantaneously over great distances! I had asked Albus to send help down the pipe and tunnel along with some broomsticks, but this will be much faster and more direct. Everyone, grab hold of a tail feather and don't let go."

Once they'd helped Iruka to his feet, all four grasped the phoenix's tail before they were overcome with a feeling of near-weightlessness. Fawkes flew upward, dragging them along as if they weighed nothing (which, to be fair, seemed to be the case), but just as it seemed they'd impact the stone ceiling they were engulfed in orange flames that, rather than burning, simply surrounded them in a comforting warmth. When the flames receded, they were being lowered gently towards the floor of the Hospital Wing as the Headmaster strode in, followed by Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva, Amelia Bones, and the Weasley parents.

"Ginny!" Iruka's ears, already ringing somewhat from the hit he had taken, were now doubly affected after Molly Weasley called out her youngest child's name loudly enough to be heard halfway to the Great Hall. Mother and daughter rushed towards each other and collided in a tearful embrace, joined soon after by Arthur.

While the Weasleys took comfort in family, Filius helped Iruka into the dubious comfort of the nearest hospital bed. Madam Pomfrey was soon standing over him, waving her wand and tutting angrily at the injuries her spells reported. After her diagnostics, her first response was to cast a charm that suddenly left Iruka breathing much more comfortably, suggesting that she'd mended his ribs. Several more spells followed, healing a variety of cuts and other minor injuries he'd been ignoring due to more pressing concerns. A quick trip to her potions cupboard had her returning with a tin of some sort and a goblet of something Iruka strongly suspected would make him regret having a tongue. "Concussion Remedy," she stated, "for your head. This plus a good night's rest should have that sorted. I've no doubt the Headmaster will be wanting to speak with you first, but you drink that directly after, understood?" Iruka nodded slightly at her use of the universal Medic's Glare before she continued. "Good, and while Filius keeps them all busy, you'll be changing out of those filthy clothes and I'll get some Bruise Balm on that back of yours." A wave of her wand had privacy curtains gathering around his bed. "You'll need another application in the morning, like as not, but I dare say you'll sleep more soundly with the bruises at least partly healed."

Iruka did as he was told, gingerly removing his uniform and warning the hospital matron that there were some potentially dangerous items contained in it and that it would be best to save passing it to the house-elves to launder until after he'd made sure it was safe for them. She was clearly less than pleased at this news, but gave her reluctant agreement. A strong cleaning charm later (she didn't want him trying to shower or bathe with his head injury), she was applying Bruise Balm to his abused back, shoulders, and head with the ease of long practice. Some bandages were summoned and affixed with Sticking Charms to keep the Balm from rubbing off during the night, and Iruka was finally allowed to put on some clean hospital pajamas. Meanwhile, a house-elf had changed the linens on his bed for some not befouled by whatever muck was soaked into his uniform from the day's adventure.

Once Iruka had settled into a bed the privacy screens were opened, admitting the chatter he hadn't realized they'd been heavily muffling (he _hated_ head injuries) and several of those from whom the chatter was issuing. First in were the Weasleys, both parents and all four boys currently at Hogwarts (the boys presumably arriving while Iruka was indisposed), while he could see Ginny ensconced in another bed across from him clearly trying to process her ordeal.

Arthur was the first to speak. "I've already said this to Professor Flitwick and your students, but thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I can't-" The man choked briefly with emotion. "I can't even begin to _think_ about losing Ginny, or any of my children. If there's ever anything the Weasley family can do for you, simply ask and it's yours." The four sons present nodded their resolute agreement, even the ever-jovial twins uncharacteristically serious.

"Our hero twice over," Molly added, "first Pandora and now our Ginny. Professor Flitwick said you'd hurt your ribs, so I'll save the hug for when you're mended." Everyone present gave the tense chuckle of people trying to stop thinking of a dark 'what-could-have-been', before they returned to the bedside of their youngest member.

The four members of S.E.N entered next, Harry still in his stained and rumpled school robes (much to the open discontent of the resident Healer who undoubtedly wanted him in a bed of his own). They were soon all attempting to talk over each other, asking if Iruka was going to be okay, if he was hurting, when would he be getting out of the Hospital Wing. "Don't worry," he told them with a chuckle once he managed to get a word in edgewise, "I should be fine and out of here tomorrow. It was a bad hit, but it's not the first time I've been injured in battle. To be honest, I'm lucky to still be in one piece - that Basilisk had me pretty thoroughly outclassed."

The four's expressions as they looked at each other said it all: 'How?'

"It was a simple case of offense and defense," he explained patiently, "I didn't have anything that could actually damage something so tough, but it had plenty of ways it could hurt me. My whole strategy boiled down to 'don't get hit and hope for an opening' - as you can see," he gestured wryly to his bandages, "that didn't exactly pan out."

Hermione, as usual, had an important question. "Then was it a bad strategy? What should you have done?"

"Given what I know of his abilities," came Filius's voice, calling attention to the Charms Professor, Headmaster, and DMLE Director standing behind the children, "it was the best strategy he had available at the time."

Madam Bones nodded seriously. "Fighting should never be your first or even second choice. You fight because you _have_ to, not because you _want_ to, and always with a goal in mind. It's almost always better to retreat in the face of danger rather than needlessly risk yourself or others. In this case, it sounds as if retreat wasn't an option: The objective of the three of you that went down there was to retrieve Miss Weasley and return safely, and you couldn't do that with a Basilisk attacking you. Speaking from experience, sometimes you just end up in a rotten situation, and you do the best you can to make it out alive."

Hermione's expression turned somewhat distant, and she spoke as if reciting. "It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not weakness; that is life." At the curious expressions of those around her, she ducked her head with a slight blush. "It's a quote from a show I saw."

"I take it your mother is a fan too?" Iruka asked. At Hermione's confused nod, he elaborated, "She said the same thing to me over the summer."

Albus chuckled indulgently at the byplay. "Whatever its source, it is something we could all stand to remember at times. Now, we need to speak with Professor Umino, and I fear Madam Pomfrey is quite impatient to examine young Mister Potter here for injury, so I shall have to send you along for now. You may of course return tomorrow if you wish, presuming Poppy doesn't decide to incarcerate you all here." This last comment drew a look of irritation from the school nurse.

Once the children had been ushered out, with Harry looking somewhat fearfully at Madam Pomfrey, the Headmaster turned to Iruka. "I'm certain that Poppy will be most wroth with me if I keep you up any longer than is necessary, so I shall keep this brief: We can discuss today's events and review memories as appropriate tomorrow, when you've recovered; mental magics and head injuries mix quite poorly. For now, I ask only if you have any questions or information too urgent to wait a day."

Iruka thought for a moment. "Just some things to bring up in case you haven't already thought of them: Secure that bathroom, control the announcement of what happened and keep Ginny's name out of it, and make sure she has someone to talk with about what happened."

Albus nodded. "Your first point is well made, your second already well in hand, and the third being presently fulfilled by Molly and Arthur."

"Good," Iruka replied. "If there's nothing else, I have a probably foul-tasting potion to drink and a night of prescribed bed rest, Healer's orders." His visitors chucklingly nodded their assent and departed, closing the privacy screens as they went. Iruka reached over to his side table and, taking a deep breath, quaffed the potion as quickly as he could manage.

He was right about the taste.

* * *

 **A/N:** **And there we have it! As I mentioned last chapter, the fight in the chamber was actually written before the rest of the fic, but the development of events throughout the story left me having to rework it a bit. The most significant change was that the original version had it be Harry and** _ **Ron**_ **accompanying Iruka to the Chamber, but I just couldn't find good a way to bring Ron into things. Meanwhile, I couldn't really come up with a reason for Iruka to be the only adult present.**

 **Now, before you go off on me for using a similar basilisk-killing method to canon, let me offer in my defense that I wrote the entire fight based upon the abilities of those involved. Basilisks are pretty much immune to all but the most powerful of magics, so Flitwick couldn't cause any serious damage (I figure he's moderately powerful but extremely skilled and knowledgeable). He also couldn't hit its eyes from where he was positioned, especially since Iruka was staying up high. Iruka simply didn't have the right kind or power of jutsu to take down an enemy that big and durable: A lightning or wind specialist would have been able to do more damage, but fire and water just don't have the same degree of penetrating/cutting power at the same level of jutsu. Most jounin wouldn't have had much trouble winning this fight, and even ninjutsu-focused chuunin with the right elemental affinity would have had a good shot, but Iruka's abilities just weren't well suited to a head-on fight against this type of opponent. That left attacking either its eye sockets or its open mouth, and the former were just moving too quickly and erratically for him to target (Tenten could do it, as again could many jounin). I figured it'd be smart enough to not let him hit its mouth with whatever he used to attack its eyes, thus keeping its mouth closed while fighting him. The only option left was to hit it in the mouth while it was striking, so I decided to mirror canon with some changes, including Harry avoiding the fangs because he's actually gotten some melee combat training (which includes avoiding counterattacks while attacking). As for how he got there in time, that's explained next chapter.  
**

 **Also, I do confess to drawing some inspiration from the Chamber fight in robst's "Harry Crow".**

 **Hermione using the same quote as her mother was originally a mistake on my part, forgetting I'd already used it before. When I noticed, rather than just removing one or the other, I decided to have Iruka mention Monica Granger's use of the quote. Unlike her mother, Hermione gets the quote word-perfect, in part because she's much more of a perfectionist.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Reboot" by Kallanit - An interesting twist on reptilia28's classic "Don't Fear the Reaper" challenge.**

 **Posted 09 September, 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 64 (that's right, I _finally_ finished 63)**


	41. 2-11: Inquiry

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

The next morning saw Iruka waking well-rested and with a significantly clearer head. He got to enjoy this for approximately two seconds before the ache born of deep bruises and recent exertion caught up to him.

Madam Pomfrey must have had some sort of monitoring charm on him, as she arrived less than a minute later. A few quick diagnostic spells had her nodding in satisfaction and pronouncing him mostly mended before pointing him to the infirmary's shower. While it might have been different for those raised with magic, Iruka at least found that he felt far cleaner after scrubbing with soap and hot water than he had after the cleaning charms the night before. Emerging in a provided robe, he proceeded to separate his weapons and other ninja tools from his filth-caked uniform and seal them all away in a storage scroll. The house-elf that brought his breakfast looked at the fouled uniform with a mix of disgust and eagerness before popping away with it.

After another application of Bruise Balm and bandages, Iruka dressed in a set of his clothes delivered by Flippy and made his way back to his quarters. Just inside his door a note was hovering in the air, telling him (in the Headmaster's voice, once he walked up to it) that there was a meeting planned with Harry, Filius, and Madam Bones to go over recent events. A quick **Tempus** showed him that he had just enough time to get there on time without rushing, assuming the staircases cooperated.

As luck had it, he ran into Harry three turns from the gargoyle, which led to a brief period of awkward silence as both wanted to converse but neither could come up with any topic that could fit into their short walk together. Both arrived in the Headmaster's office to find the other three already present and the Pensieve already on the desk.

"Ah, Iruka, Harry, welcome!" Albus greeted. "Now that we are all present, I believe that Madam Bones has a number of questions regarding yesterday's events and what led up to them.

The DMLE Director nodded. "First of all, how did you figure out that Slytherin's monster was a Basilisk, and where and how to access the Chamber of Secrets?"

Iruka, with the occasional addition by Harry or Dumbledore, walked all present through the series of clues leading up to the discoveries in question, along with what steps were taken. Once they finished, the Headmaster spoke up. "Perhaps further questions would be best answered, at least in part, by viewing Professor Flitwick's memory of the Chamber expedition?" At Iruka's worried look, he addressed the chuunin. "I have already spoken with both Filius and Madam Bones, and both have agreed that any peculiar talents or abilities possessed by members of the rescue party are not relevant to any Ministry reports and are not to be shared outside the circle of trust without permission or compelling cause. Now, Filius, perhaps you could take the lead?"

Nodding in response, Filius hopped up on a conjured stool and bent down over the Pensieve. As soon as his nose touched the wispy not-liquid inside, the device seemed to suddenly suck him bodily into itself, his body stretching and streaming in as if fluid. It was startling to watch, but based on the unsurprised expressions worn by Professor Dumbledore and Madam Bones, Iruka could only conclude that this was how a Pensieve normally worked. Madam Bones followed, without needing the stool's assistance to reach the desktop. Harry went next, clear hesitation showing through his attempt at Gryffindor bravado, and Albus gestured to Iruka to follow, clearly intending to bring up the rear himself.

Not knowing what to expect, the chuunin took and held a deep breath as he bent over the silvery surface. Instantly finding himself falling through _something_ immensely cold and dark nearly caused him to cry out, then just as suddenly he was standing next to Filius, Madam Bones, Harry, Filius, Snape, Albus, himself, and S.E.N. - he recognized the hallway outside the girl's loo haunted by 'Moaning Myrtle'. A second Albus appeared moments later.

Together, the five watched the end of Iruka's tale play out. Madam Bones gave the Headmaster a look of sympathy when he was denied a place on the rescue mission, likely having experience herself with sending friends and colleagues into danger and being unable to give aid herself. Her look turned intensely curious at his logic for sending Filius in his place, and her monocle fell out of her eye when Harry was revealed to be a Parselmouth. "What did you say, by the way?" Filius asked as Memory-Harry opened the sink.

"I just said 'open'," Harry replied with a half-shrug, "here and later."

"So much for the cunning of Slytherin," the sole witch present commented, "it's pure arrogance thinking Parseltongue is the only security you need."

"Most lax," the Headmaster agreed. "I shudder to consider Alastor's response."

Due to the nature of the memory, the five viewers had to quickly follow Memory-Filius down the pipe, Current-Harry whooping in delight at the ride now that he could enjoy it without the threat of imminent danger. The adults present all gave fond chuckles at the bottom of the slide as Harry blushed.

The brief bout of levity was soon forgotten, however, at the first sight of the Basilisk's shed skin. " _Merlin_ ," Madam Bones breathed, "Basilisk or not, any snake that size would be seriously dangerous. How in the world did you all make it out of there alive?"

"You'll see soon enough," Filius commented as the memory continued on towards the Chamber proper. Iruka received an approving nod from the DMLE Head at his memory-self's reminder that they were on a rescue mission, not a snake hunt.

Both Albus and Madam Bones were wide-eyed at the Chamber itself. When the young Riddle made his appearance, the stern witch's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion, while the Headmaster's expression was more one of sadness, regret, and almost pity. When the phantom called out to the statue, Harry translated the hissing as "Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

"Lax security, giant statue of himself, that password," Iruka snarked, "Salazar Slytherin was truly a humble man."

"Eyes closed until the explosion, everyone!" Filius's shout startled the other four, who looked at him in confusion. "We don't know if the memory of the Basilisk will contain any of its gaze, and I'd rather not find out in the affirmative." Seeing the logic in the statement, all present closed their eyes until the sound of Iruka's explosive tags.

The two who hadn't been present in the Chamber watched the battle in amazement, particularly the witch who hadn't previously seen what Iruka was capable of. Both were also clearly thinking furiously, whether trying to predict the outcome or trying to figure out what their own strategy would be in that situation. Everyone winced when Iruka was hit, though he calmly reassured them, "I've had as bad before, and it's better than it looks." Judging by the brief glares, it didn't seem to help.

With an outside perspective and a clear head, Iruka could see Memory-Harry dashing across the Chamber floor, faster than he'd ever seen the boy move before, as the Basilisk gathered itself to strike, oblivious to all else in its fixation on its prey. Watching Harry bring down the King of Serpents with a single kunai was amazing even to those who had been there at the time (including Harry himself), and the adults all favored the second-year Gryffindor with wistful but proud smiles as he stood resolutely before his fallen teacher and shouted down the most feared wizard in decades.

After such a spectacle, seeing the diary's destruction was almost anticlimactic. Soon enough the memories had arrived in the Hospital Wing, and Iruka found himself flying upward before landing softly back in the Headmaster's office.

"I felt bloody useless," Filius remarked sourly as the Albus shot him a look of reprimand for his language. "Nothing I tried did anything against Riddle, that diary, the Basilisk..."

"You got us all _out_ , Filius," Iruka replied immediately. "Even if I could normally have cast that messenger spell - something I'd like to learn, by the way - I was in no state to pull off anything more complex than a Lumos. I suppose if there'd been no other choice, that I _could_ have probably climbed back up that pipe carrying or dragging the children, but it would not have done good things for those broken ribs. Somehow, I doubt I'd be this fully recovered today if I'd punctured a lung yesterday." Filius nodded, somewhat mollified but still clearly unsatisfied at his own contribution.

Madam Bones apparently wanted to ask her questions in chronological order. "Since we didn't see it happen, how did you create that explosion?"

"Might I take a guess?" Filius interjected. At Iruka's nod, he continued. "I noticed several times during that fight that you threw knives trailing small slips of paper. Those knives, or more likely the papers behind them, seemed to produce explosions. Recalling your safety demonstration last year and this year, you showed that misdrawn seals can explode when energized, and that the charging cluster can have a time-delay introduced. It stands to reason, then, that it would be possible to create a seal _designed_ to explode, likely with much greater power than most accidents, and to do so in a controlled, predictable fashion."

Iruka smiled at his colleague. "That's right. Those paper tags carried explosive seals. Back home, I sparred on a couple occasions with a woman whose fighting style included summoned snakes of various sizes, so I have some idea how such a creature moves. Even blind, I could hear the Basilisk moving and could tell where it was, so I threw a set of four exploding kunai, those knives, to bracket its head and make sure I ruined its eyes. It was moving too quickly and unpredictably to target the eyes directly, even once I could see."

"That all brings up my next question," the witch said. "How were you able to move like that, and how did you generate those fire spells without a wand?"

The chuunin replied with a brief synopsis of shinobi, chakra, and jutsu, as Filius listened with rapt attention. Albus occasionally commented to clarify points from a wizarding perspective. When he finished, Madam Bones nodded. "I can certainly understand wanting to keep all that secret; the Department of Mysteries would be all over you if they heard about your abilities, and I'd call it a coin toss between the conservative elements decrying you as a creature or demanding access to your powers. Either way, the Prophet would have a field day and their coverage would _not_ be favorable to you. As long as you don't use your abilities for nefarious purposes, I'll keep quiet about them. Won't stop me wishing I had a few Aurors that could do such things, though."

Iruka chuckled. "I'd look at training a few trusted people, were it not for the fact that adults would get very little benefit from it. Of the children I've been training here in Britain, the youngest began at age nine and will still likely never reach my level of ability because of her late start, though she'll outstrip me in magic before she finishes Hogwarts. If you want shinobi-trained Aurors, I'd first suggest finding out if Harry or any of his friends are interested." Harry blushed at the considering look this last statement drew from the chief law-enforcement officer of Wizarding Britain.

"I take it that your training is how Harry knew how to properly handle a blade?" Filius asked.

"Yeah, it was," Harry replied for his sensei. "I just used one of the stances Iruka-sensei showed us; he said it was for enemies attacking from above, which the Basilisk kind of was. I also made sure to turn sideways like he tells us, to be a smaller target and be more stable, which ended up letting me go between the fangs."

"It was very well done," Iruka told his student. "Incredibly reckless, but still, well done."

Albus had the next question. "I noticed that young Harry moved remarkably quickly for a boy his size, even more so than I'd seen in the training sessions I've observed. Was this a new technique you'd taught recently?"

Iruka shook his head. "I've never seen Harry move that fast before either, though I do have a theory about how he managed it. How were you feeling after the Chamber, Harry?"

Harry seemed a bit surprised at the question. "Other than crashing off the adrenaline, I was sore all over. Madam Pomfrey made me take a Muscle-Mending Tonic before she'd let me leave the Hospital Wing."

The chuunin smiled. "That confirms my theory. I'm pretty sure that you somehow managed to pull off at least an approximation of a technique called the **Omote Renge** , the Initial Lotus. You basically pushed past the limits your body normally imposes on your strength and speed to avoid damaging itself. I don't know whether you did it the same way it's normally performed, whether your magic contributed in some way, or some other possibility. What I _can_ say is _why_ you were able to do it."

"In Konoha," he continued, "we consider our friends, family, village, and comrades to be of paramount importance, and that fighting for each other is always better than fighting for ourselves. That focus on others, on bonds and protection, is what we call 'The Will of Fire', and it's been our village's guiding philosophy since its founding. To put it another way," he said as he put a hand on his student's shoulder, "as the Seventh Hokage will often tell people, 'When a person is protecting someone precious to them, that is when that person can become truly strong.'"

Albus beamed proudly at the two of them. "A wise and enlightened philosophy," he commented. "There will come times when we must take up arms and fight, and it is terribly easy for people to lose themselves in power and violence when that happens. We must always remember to fight with love in our hearts, rather than hatred. Love, I firmly believe, is the most wondrous and powerful magic of all."

A cough from Madam Bones brought them all back to the present. "My next question is for you, Albus." She pointed towards the Headmaster's desk, where Iruka saw the stained remains of Tom Riddle's diary. "What in Merlin's name _was_ that thing?"

"Alas," he replied, "I cannot be certain. Whatever magic it previously held, its enchantments have been utterly shattered by the potent destructiveness of Basilisk venom. I have scanned it using every method I know, and several I had to look up in some of my more esoteric volumes of magical lore, but mostly all I can detect now is a faint residue of the foulest Dark magic I have ever seen. I have a working hypothesis, but I do not believe it appropriate material for younger, more innocent ears." He finished while giving Harry a meaningful look. "Also, the wards inform me that we are about to have company of a sort most ill-suited to such a discussion..."

Almost as soon as the Headmaster finished speaking, the door was thrown open without knocking, and a man swept smoothly (if pompously) into the room. He was tall and lean, clad in immaculate jet black robes of expensive fabric and cut and carrying a black cane with a silver snake-head handle, and appeared to be in his early to mid-30s. His long hair was a near-white blonde, and his complexion was similarly pale; these, plus his sharp facial features and cold, sneering expression marked him as most likely Lucius Malfoy, father of Harry's classmate and erstwhile rival Draco, head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and supposedly-conscripted 'former' Death Eater.

" _Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore, " Malfoy drawled while withdrawing a rolled document from his robes, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Another one just yesterday, this time the youngest child of one of your most ardent supporters. Clearly, you are simply no longer able to keep your students safe."

"I'm afraid, Lucius," the Grand Sorcerer replied with a calm smile, "that your information is somewhat out of date. Not only was Slytherin's mysterious Chamber found and Miss Weasley retrieved unharmed, but the beast inflicting the petrifications was slain and the individual controlling it dealt with."

"How delightfully _convenient_ for you," Malfoy sneered. "While _some_ people might simply accept your assurances as absolute, the Board shall require more proof than a wild story."

"It is fortuitous then," the Supreme Mugwump said, "that I was shortly about to suggest a return expedition to the Chamber in order to ensure that no other unpleasant surprises remain within, and to examine the Chamber itself. It is, after all, a historical site, and as such should be studied and documented. This time, of course, we shall be able to go in far greater numbers and safety. I had planned on calling in some specialists to check for any lingering curses or hidden areas, but you are welcome to call upon experts of your own choosing as well. Also, I hope to bring Professor Snape with us to examine the carcass, in case any portion of it might be useful in his work or his research."

"I see," the blond aristocrat said coldly. "And when do you intend your little undertaking to begin?"

"With luck," the Chief Warlock smiled back, "I hope to have all the necessary parties gathered tomorrow. Shall I owl you with the time?"

"Please do. You may remain in your post, _for now_ , but if you are unable to provide adequate proof of your claims tomorrow you shall not be returning to this office afterward. If you will excuse me..." He gave a formal, if minimal, nod of his head to those present before striding back out.

"Take a lesson from the Headmaster, Harry," Iruka commented once the interloper had left. "You should always try to stay polite and friendly towards people no matter how unpleasant they are. If nothing else, it's amusing how annoyed they get."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Albus stated with a seemingly-serious expression belied by the twinkling in his eyes. "I was simply showing good manners to a guest, nothing more. Now, it would seem that I shall have to be somewhat more urgent in gathering participants for tomorrow's little adventure; may I count on all of your attendance?" A round of nods answered him. "Excellent. Now, before you go, I have an idea which I expect young Harry might appreciate..."

* * *

 **A/N: I've seen fics that have people entering memories by sticking a finger into the Pensieve, fics that have people just standing there spaced out while viewing memories, and fics that have memory-viewing take very little time. All of these I questioned whether they were canonical or not. Turns out, not. I based the method of Pensieve usage on a scene from Chapter 10 of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Harry and Dumbledore enter the Pensieve sequentially, and when they leave, it mentions their feet landing on the floor of Dumbledore's office, so I concluded that the user is pulled bodily into the memory. The description in the book also indicates that a non-trivial amount of time passed during the memory viewing.**

 **Also, why is it that bot FFnet and AO3 strip underlines (but not bold/italic)?**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Sealed Kunai" by Kenchi618 - Naruto was, unbeknownst to Hiruzen, recruited by Root at a young age. When he discovers this, he has Naruto's memories and advanced capabilities sealed away, but that seal starts to break down during his fight with Gaara.**

 **Posted 23 September 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 65**


	42. 2-12: Toad in the Hole

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Albus informed Iruka that they would be gathering to explore the Chamber just after lunch. Classes had been canceled for the day as at least two Professors of core subjects, one Adjunct Professor, and one elective teacher would be part of the expedition, and other staff might also be called in as well.

As lunch was in progress, a number of people began to arrive, and were promptly invited to join in with the meal. Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody ate at the head table, with the latter casting numerous detection charms over the table, his chair, his plate and cutlery, the food itself, and anything else he deemed 'suspicious' (it was a long list). About halfway through, an unfamiliar pair of adults stepped in, though the younger of the two was clearly familiar to some in the hall.

"BILL!" Ginny Weasley's delighted shout echoed through the Great Hall as a fiery-haired missile streaked from the Gryffindor table to impact with a laughing young man that Iruka presumed to be William, the oldest of the Weasley siblings. The man was tall and lean, with handsome features framed by a ponytail of the trademark Weasley red hair; he wore sturdy casual clothing with dragonhide boots and a long coat, along with some sort of fang for an earring. The overall effect was such that quite a few witches in the room clearly seemed to wish they were the ones presently sharing a hug with the dashing young wizard.

After several minutes conversing with five of his younger siblings, during which his companion (a middle-aged wizard with dark hair and skin, dressed in similar style minus the earring and carrying a large satchel) looked on in bemusement, Bill headed for the staff table with Ginny in tow. The first-year girl was pretty much attached to her big brother, her arm around his waist while his was draped protectively over her shoulder. She was also smiling, really smiling, for the first time Iruka had seen since the Chamber.

"Professor Umino?" he asked Iruka, who nodded. "Bill Weasley, from what I've heard the one Weasley you've yet to meet. I wanted to add my own thanks for saving my little sister," he gave Ginny a one-armed squeeze, "both you and Professor Flitwick. I'll be thanking the third member of your group later, as I'm told he doesn't like being singled out in public. The Weasley family owes all three of you big time."

"It was really a team effort," Iruka deflected. "More than just those of us that went down, others helped figure out what was going on. Besides, the only reason we could attempt the rescue was knowing the rest of the staff were here, protecting everyone else. Everybody played a part - mine was mostly running around and nearly getting squashed flat by a giant snake. You're helping too, actually," he said with a nod towards Ginny, "and in more ways than whatever you've been called in for."

"William is a professional curse-breaker working for Gringotts," Albus explained, "with a specialization in exploring and securing ancient ruins. Once I explained the circumstances, the goblins were quite reasonable about recalling him from his assignment in Egypt."

Bill nodded. "Yeah, goblins don't mess around when it comes to family honor. Besides, having Gringotts staff part of this expedition is good publicity for the curse-breaking division, so between those and the fact that I can be back in Egypt tomorrow, they were willing to let me take this job. Of course, it doesn't hurt that they've been promised a share in the value of whatever we find down there. As I'm sure you noticed yourself, goblins are experts at getting the most from a deal. My team has made use of a couple of your seals ourselves, they're quite handy, so thanks for that too."

"I'm glad to hear they're helping," Iruka replied with a smile.

"Well, don't let us keep you;" the Headmaster said jovially into the following lull, "both you and your colleague are welcome to partake of refreshment. I dare say your brothers, and several of their Housemates, wouldn't mind having you return to your old House table."

All of the Weasleys present gathered at the Gryffindor table, while the other man from Gringotts took one of the extra seats placed at the staff table. He introduced himself as Jake Fairfield, and explained in an accent Iruka didn't recognize that he was tasked with collecting some things from the basilisk carcass, "after Hogwarts' Potions Master, of course," he added genially at the harsh glare his comments had provoked from said wizard. Snape responded with a grudging nod.

Lunch passed in a blur of pleasant conversation, Iruka taking the opportunity to speak with the visitors and broaden his knowledge a bit. Jake, as he insisted everyone call him, was apparently an expert on potion ingredients, especially those that were rare or otherwise difficult and/or dangerous to obtain, which explained why he'd been chosen for this particular assignment. He had far more stories than he had time or permission to share, mostly about dealing with foreign cultures and exotic creatures. Madam Bones largely kept things polite and bland, though she did explain a bit more about the workings of law enforcement in Wizarding Britain. Moody kept his answers terse and fairly uninformative, eyeing whoever asked him a question with suspicion.

Finally, the meal ended, and the students slowly left, reluctant to miss out on whatever was going on. Iruka accompanied the Headmaster and guests, along with Professors Flitwick, Snape, and Kettleburn, into the antechamber across from the Great Hall. There, they found three more people for their expedition: There was Lucius Malfoy, unsurprisingly, along with a short, squat woman in garish pink who could only be the somewhat notorious Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and a particularly vicious bigot responsible for many harsh laws regarding non-human and part-human beings. Standing apart from the other two was a... well they were a person, though adjectives beyond that were nearly impossible to discern thanks to their shapeless, all-concealing gray hooded robes and gloves. The chuunin had discussed with Pandora the possibility of consulting with the Department of Mysteries regarding their research, but decided that too little was known about the shadowy researchers called Unspeakables to trust that they wouldn't either steal the research (and his and Pandora's memories of it) or take Iruka himself for study.

Introductions were made all around (with the Unspeakable giving the codename "Fauld") before the entire group trudged up to the second floor. They first stopped at the two messages on the wall, where at Albus's request Bill examined both. The original message had been charmed to resist cleaning, but the charms didn't last long under the wand of a professional curse-breaker. Upon entering the haunted washroom, they found the sink entrance already standing open. "And now," the Headmaster announced, "we must enter this pipe which leads to the passage by which the Chamber is accessed. The journey down, I am informed, is entirely safe and quite exciting, but also unfortunately rather dirty. It was primarily for this reason that I advised you all to wear or bring clothing suitable for getting dirty." He proceeded to remove his fine hat and outer robes, revealing a heavy second set of robes of plain grey fabric, and hanging them on a conjured rack before tying up his hair and beard with a quick wave of his wand. Iruka, Filius, Professor Snape, and Madam Bones also shucked and hung their outer robes; Moody, Fauld, and the Gringotts employees seemed comfortable to descend as they were; Malfoy acted unconcerned and Umbridge simply glared at the hole in disgust.

"Hem, hem," the squat witch cleared her throat for attention. "I must have misheard you, Headmaster," she said in a simpering, high-pitched voice with a saccharine smile that very much did not reach her eyes. "Surely you don't mean that we are to reach Salazar Slytherin's legendary secret Chamber by sliding down a filthy drainpipe?"

"I am afraid, Dolores," Albus replied with a more sincere-looking kind smile, "that this is the only known means of entry. Did Lucius not inform you? My owl to him did state that accessing the Chamber would necessitate getting rather dirty." Umbridge just huffed and glared angrily at both wizards.

"I'll go first," Filius offered into the tense silence that followed, "as I've been down there before; once I've cast a few Cushioning Charms I'll message up. You'd be best waiting at least fifteen or twenty seconds between people, to give each person time to get out of the way." At the Headmaster's assenting nod, the Charms Master stepped out and dropped away. A minute or two later, a silvery weasel flew up out of the pipe and announced "All clear!" in the tiny Professor's voice.

Bill Weasley went next, followed by Moody, then the Unspeakable. One by one the various participants slid down to the tunnel deep below, before proceeding forward. "Careful," Bill warned as they approached the location of the shed skin, "I don't like the look of the stone around here. Too much of a disturbance could cause a collapse, so we'd best keep from making too much noise until we're through to somewhere more solid."

Albus responded by conjuring some timber braces to reinforce the walls and ceiling. "A temporary measure," he noted, "but at least for today, better safe than sorry." He braced a couple other sections of tunnel as well when Bill pointed them out as suspect. The entire trip, both the cursebreaker and Moody were casting various detection charms, but unsurprisingly (given the fact that this route had been traversed recently without incident) their scans came back negative. As they approached the entrance to the Chamber, they began to smell an increasingly-strong odor of decay, soon becoming enough of a problem that all were forced to make use of Bubble-Head Charms (with Iruka's helpfully provided by Filius).

Entering the Chamber proper, Malfoy's expression became somewhat wooden, while Umbridge showed a touch of disappointment. Moody's eye was scanning wildly in every direction, pausing for a moment near the entrance as the scarred Auror gave a brief, subtle smirk and jabbed with his wand, while both Bill and the Unspeakable were casting numerous detection charms. Albus casually commented, "Now that we have seen this Chamber in the... _ambiance_ its creator intended, perhaps we could do with somewhat clearer illumination?" A complex movement of his wand sent several brilliantly-glowing orbs of white light to hover high in the air along the length of the Chamber, showing the entire room in its ophidian glory. They also lit the massive carcass of the Basilisk, the obvious source of the stench permeating the Chamber.

"Yep, that's a Basilisk, all right," stated Silvanus Kettleburn, "you can tell by the horns, the size, and the coloration. Rare and bloody dangerous, they are - glad I'm only seein' this one dead."

"You would have us believe that this beast was killed only two days ago?" Malfoy demanded angrily, "It would take weeks or months to rot to this degree!" Both he and Umbridge showed a mix of outrage and eagerness.

"Actually, Lucius," Snape interjected, sounding far more amiable than Iruka had ever heard from the man, "a creature such as a Basilisk could well decay far more quickly than would be natural. It was a beast born of and sustained by powerful Dark magic, and now with its death that same magic is acting upon its carcass. As is commonly known, Dark magic is a predominantly destructive force, and it has now turned from sustaining the Basilisk to functioning in a far more typical fashion. Add to this the unnatural nature of the beast, which could also possibly cause it to decay more rapidly in order to restore balance, and this level of decomposition is to be expected."

When this assessment was confirmed by both Bill and the Unspeakable, both of whom had now focused their attentions on the corpse and the area around it, the Death Eater and Senior Undersecretary deflated. Once the dead Basilisk had been declared 'safe' (or at least as safe as such a thing could be), both Potions experts quickly moved over and began examining it. Contrary to his earlier behavior, Professor Snape was now conversing quickly with his counterpart, discussing which portions to harvest, how, and in which order.

"Hem, hem..." By the Sage, this woman was making him long for the incessant "Dattebayo!" of his former student. "I find it most distressing the amount of damage done to this priceless historical site. Surely _proper_ wizards should have been able to deal with the beast without smashing the place apart like a couple of trolls?"

Iruka adopted a placid smile. "I'm afraid that's largely down to the Basilisk itself, Ma'am; it showed a tendency to go _through_ the columns instead of _around_ them, particularly once it was blinded. On the positive side, the fact that they were just smashed by a creature instead of blasted by spells means they should be reasonably simple to fix once the experts have finished checking the Chamber over."

Said experts were presently occupied by a stretch of wall near the statue's feet. "Headmaster!" Bill Weasley called, "I think we've got something over here!" The entire party, minus the two potioneers currently elbow-deep in rancid Basilisk, made their way over. "We're detecting signs of a space of some sort behind this wall section," the cursebreaker explained, "but we've been unable to access it. Our only clue is this carving, just here." He pointed, and just above Iruka's eye level was a very small, shallow carving of a snake, not unlike the one on the taps upstairs. Even in the brighter light provided by the Headmaster, it was difficult to notice.

"I believe I may have a solution," Albus said, "but I must ask all of you to stand well back. We do not know precisely what may lie within, so it would be best if you all kept a safe distance." The assemblage did as they were told, some a bit reluctantly, before the aged wizard began making grand, intricate gestures with his wand. As he was doing so, Moody sidled up next to Iruka.

"Smart move," he commented quietly enough that only the chuunin could hear, "lettin' 'em all think it's some complicated secret spell while your boy does the real work. Means none of 'em'll be able to open it themselves once we're out. I'm guessin' it was the same for the entrance in the loo?"

"And a door to the Chamber itself," Iruka replied equally quietly. "He didn't want his involvement publicized."

"Can't blame the lad," Moody said, "that kind of attention is loads o' trouble. Twice over, if he's doin' what I think."

At around this point, a section of wall about the size of a typical door separated from the stone around it and sank downwards, stopping when it had become a near-seamless part of the floor. Dumbledore stepped back, and beckoned Bill, Moody, and the Unspeakable to once again do their work. Unlike previous areas, here they did find a magical booby-trap just inside the doorway, set to deliver a powerful electrical shock to anyone stepping or casting spells through. Thankfully, it was easily dismantled, apparently somewhat by design.

As the trio cautiously began to probe deeper into the newly-revealed area, Malfoy addressed Iruka. "While we wait, I am rather curious. You have all been decidedly vague regarding exactly _how_ such a fearsome beast was slain. Perhaps you would care to... enlighten us?"

"Obviously, when the culprit first called the thing out, we closed our eyes to avoid meeting its gaze." The chuunin launched into the (edited) tale. "Dying instantly wouldn't have helped our rescue mission much, after all. We used large-area explosions, aimed blindly around where its head _should_ be. When it shrieked in pain, I risked looking at it in a mirror to check whether both eyes were gone, and thankfully they were. The mirror, by the way, was because the group assisting our research into the attacks determined that the petrifications were all caused by indirect viewing of the Basilisk's eyes - in a reflection, through a ghost, and such. I figured by using a reflection, even if I was wrong and the eyes weren't out, at least I'd be only petrified and not dead."

"Once we could fight with our eyes open," he continued, "we did our best to put it down, but nothing we had could inflict meaningful damage through those scales. That left us basically just trying not to get eaten as it continued to track us by scent and sound. It was while I was running away, keeping its attention off of Filius and the kidnapped girl, that it smashed through those pillars. Finally, it managed a lucky hit with its tail that left me unable to keep running. When it tried to finish me off, it made the mistake of opening its mouth and exposing flesh that _wasn't_ so heavily protected. A single attack through the roof of its mouth managed to breach a venom sac, and Basilisk venom seems just as deadly to Basilisks as to anything else."

"In other words," Lucius responded, "you killed Slytherin's monster mostly through blind luck."

"Well," Iruka temporized, "what else would you expect from only two wizards, one of whom isn't great at combat magics, going up against a Class XXXXX magical beast?"

"What _I_ want to know," the Senior Undersecretary cut in, "is who is actually responsible for this debacle? After all, whoever it is has caused a great deal of trouble and damage, and should be duly punished!" Iruka really, _really_ didn't like the hungry gleam in her eyes at the last word.

"The same person as last time, Dolores," said Dumbledore, "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary." He pulled the ruined book out of his robes and displayed it to the witch. "A very cunningly crafted magical device," he continued, "wrought with some truly foul Dark magic to deceive and ensnare the unwary, with the intention of stealing a victim's life to power the incarnation of a copy of its creator's teenaged self.

"A clever plan," the Headmaster commented flatly, now eyeing Malfoy as much as Umbridge, "Because had our intrepid rescuers not discovered this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would have ever been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will..."

Something in the canny old wizard's tone had Iruka paying careful attention. There was clearly more being said here than just the obvious, and Malfoy's reaction (or sudden lack thereof) said that he was receiving the message loud and clear. As Albus continued, a picture emerged to the chuunin: He too had heard the gossip about Lucius Malfoy brawling with Arthur Weasley in Diagon Alley that summer, like common Muggles, while out getting Hogwarts supplies for their respective children. It was wildly out of character for the arrogant pureblood aristocrat, which suggested an ulterior motive. The Weasley father's Muggle Protection Act and other activities had been decidedly unpopular with the Malfoys and their ilk, providing ample motive; Lucius's prior association with Riddle gave him the means; a distracting scuffle could have been used to create the opportunity. It was more than enough to strongly suspect the man, but left no actual _proof_.

Iruka began gathering a decent pool of _yin_ chakra, before speaking once Albus had finished. "It's a pity that we don't know who slipped that diary into Miss Weasley's schoolbooks," he commented calmly. "After all, whoever it was, they unleashed a Basilisk, a living weapon of mass murder, into a school full of Wizarding Britain's children, including Mr. Malfoy's own son and heir! I shudder to think of how close we came to suffering the deaths of random masses of students in the halls. But of course, Mr. Malfoy," he now addressed Lucius, "you needn't worry too much. We take the safety of our students quite seriously here at Hogwarts."

He gave the wizard a large, benevolent smile while using the gathered _yin_ chakra to crank up and tightly focus the sakki he was now emitting, aiming it at the Malfoy patriarch as powerfully as he could. Any experienced shinobi would have shrugged it off and scoffed at the parlor trick, but Iruka was the only person in the country fitting that description. "As we did with the Basilisk, we will deal with any threat to the children of this school as promptly and _thoroughly_ as possible. Of that you can be _certain_."

In spite of the cool air of the Chamber, Lucius Malfoy was sweating noticeably when Iruka abruptly let off his sakki a moment later, without giving any outward sign, before nodding to the man and moving off to converse with Madam Bones. He was hoping she had access to more information about the Death Eaters, such as their methods and tactics: If Riddle had effectively made two attempts to return in two years, then another war was likely inevitable and would probably come sooner than the chuunin would like. He needed to know everything he could find out about the people who would then become his enemies. Thankfully, the DMLE did indeed have extensive records from the previous war, and its Director was quite willing to send him a copy of everything she could, asking only that he share any useful insights with her and Dumbledore.

When the specialist team finally cleared the new area, everyone present (even the pair harvesting the Basilisk) came over to look. What they found was, frankly, anticlimactic. It was a set of rooms laden with dust and lacking anything of real interest. There were hearths burning with magical flames, along with some Spartan (and now more than a bit decayed) wooden furniture. Based on the furnishings, it looked like this area had been something of a retreat for Salazar Slytherin, containing a simple bed, a table with a single chair, some now-empty bookshelves, cabinets, and wardrobes, and a side room identifiable as a workspace by the damage, stains, and scorch marks both on the large tables and the room itself. Unfortunately, whoever had last accessed these rooms had clearly taken everything of interest or value, as even the most fastidious search had failed to turn up evidence of any further hidden secrets. Fortunately for Iruka's peace of mind, the thick layer of dust suggested that this emptying had happened long before Tom Riddle had ever attended Hogwarts.

Conjured ladders were used to reach the statue's open mouth, but the space within proved another disappointment, containing only bedding, shed skins, and droppings. Once it had been declared safe, the two harvesters climbed up to gather the skins and some of the droppings, just in case they might prove useful in their work. Though the rest of the business in the Chamber had been completed, the two reported that they would be working for hours yet, so Albus turned a quill from his pocket into a Portkey up to the dungeons, where both men could clean up before dividing the foul-smelling fruits of their labor.

He then pulled a long coil of rope from a pocket that must have been expanded on the inside, and instructed everyone else go gather and take hold of it. As Iruka did so, grasping the end opposite the Headmaster, he felt a slight tug on his sleeve and saw the end of the rope beside his hand disappear. "I confirmed yesterday evening that Portkeys can in fact bring people out from this Chamber, at least if made by myself. As Headmaster, I am able to authorize Portkeys to function in spite of the castle's wards, and so we shall be returning to Miss Warren's post-mortem residence directly. Is everyone ready, nothing left behind? Well then, **Portus**!"

Travel by Portkey was like a somewhat less injurious version of the effect that had first brought Iruka to Britain. Thankfully, the short trip also meant that the dizzying sensation was quite brief before all attached landed in the restroom as promised. He heard Harry stumble beside him, and quickly stuck an arm out for his student to grab and steady himself, disguising the act as a stumble of his own.

"Well then," Albus announced, "thank you all for coming today. I trust our esteemed guests are satisfied that our recent troubles have been fully resolved?" Both Malfoy and Umbridge nodded curtly and clearly reluctantly. "Excellent! In that case, I believe we may adjourn, as we could all likely stand to bathe thoroughly at our soonest convenience." He conjured a set of simple privacy screens. "Those who brought or can access a change of clothing and wish to change immediately, these should serve."

Undersecretary Umbridge, Bill Weasley, and Professor Kettleburn left to clean up and return to work, while Madam Bones, the Unspeakable, and Lucius Malfoy headed for the booths. The last of those three called out "Dobby!" as he did entered his booth, and thoroughly confirmed his guilt to those who knew about the warnings Harry had received. The house-elf that answered the call was one of the most pitiful creatures Iruka had ever seen: A painfully thin body was dressed in a tattered and stained pillowcase, which hid neither the bandages nor the numerous scars and partially-healed burns and bruises of varying ages. Seeing evidence of how badly the poor elf was abused made the chuunin wish even harder to 'volunteer' its master as a test subject for Orochimaru.

A few moments later Albus excused himself from the room, returning minutes later with a now-visible Harry, who made a show of hesitancy at entering a girls' toilet. "Iruka, I believe your student would like to speak to you regarding your most recent Sealing class."

Iruka nodded and greeted Harry, and the two began discussing fuuinjutsu theory, with Filius and Albus soon joining in. Even Moody was visibly listening in, though whether out of interest or paranoia was difficult to tell.

The first to exit their changing area was the Unspeakable, dressed in robes identical to those they were wearing before except in the lack of unidentifiable grime. Madam Bones had brought her outer robes into the booth with her, and emerged wearing them. Finally came Lucius Malfoy, much cleaner than he had been but slightly unkempt, his right shoe far more polished than his left with Dobby fearfully trailing after while attempting to fix this issue. He strode imperiously out the door without even acknowledging the room's other occupants.

The moment the blond wizard was through the door, Harry excused himself and departed as well. Given the familiar look in his student's eye, Iruka also made his excuses and followed after at a discreet distance. He watched as Harry hailed Malfoy, and presented him with the diary, which the man promptly tossed aside to be caught by his elf. Dobby perked up suddenly, and allowed the diary to fall open and reveal a flattened sock hidden between its pages.

Malfoy turned to storm away once more, barking at Dobby to follow, and found to his dismay that he now owned one less house-elf. Iruka was ready to move forward and intervene when Lucius lunged towards Harry as if to throttle him, only to see his third blonde tosspot of the year tumbling through the air. This one, it seemed, had been launched back by a protective elf with the snap of its fingers. When the 'former' Death Eater rose, enraged, he apparently remembered that magic existed and pulled a wand free from his cane.

 _Now_ , Iruka intervened. A quick Substitution with a suit of armor behind Malfoy placed the chuunin in a position to dart forward and grab the man's wand hand, forcing his aim to remain towards the ground. "Now now, Mr. Malfoy," he said quietly in a dangerously bright tone, letting his sakki flow out, "you wouldn't be about to attack one of my students, would you? After all, I already promised to protect them, and I _never_ go back on my word, and wouldn't it be _such_ a shame if I had to do something... unfortunate... to you?"

Between the angry house-elf at the top of the stairs, finger still leveled at him, and the strangely frightening scholar gripping his wand hand with surprising strength, Lucius looked like he might need another set of clean robes already. "Forgive my... _ill-considered_ actions," he ground out, "I am afraid that the _disappointment_ regarding the Chamber's contents left me in a poor mood. Why don't you see to your _student_ ," he sneered the word like a vile insult, "while I return home to take a much-needed bath." With a nod and a woodenly beatific smile, Iruka released the aristocratic bully and watched him unblinkingly until he had passed out of sight as he only-barely-not-rushed from the castle.

Once he was able to relax, the chuunin turned a gimlet eye on his student. "That's _two_ Naruto plans in three days, Harry. Do you think you could cut back a bit, for the sake of my nerves if nothing else?"

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 **A/N: Sorry, but once I came up with the idea of Umbridge going instead of Fudge, there was no way I could resist the pun.**

 **This chapter fought me. A lot. I repeatedly revised both large and small elements of it, trying to get the characters' behavior to fit both their established personalities and the story. I'd like to hope that the result all flows and makes sense. Also, it didn't exactly give me any good break points until the end there, which resulted in this much longer chapter than normal.**

 **Jake Fairfield is an OC filling a minor role and, unusually, not really based on anybody. His accent is from an English-speaking country outside of the UK. If pressed, I'll say he's Canadian, because the only people that hate Canadians are a-holes and fans of certain American NHL teams. And, apparently, Severus Snape if he thinks they're horning in on his source of rare and exotic potion ingredients, though frankly he fits the first category already.**

 **A fauld is a portion of plate armor, specifically the front portion of the 'skirt' of plates extending down from the breastplate. I just felt like giving this Unspeakable a really obscure term as a codename, dunno why.**

 **"Why didn't they bring a reporter, or at least a photographer, with them?" I hear you asking. Simply put, Lucius and the Batrachian One were hedging their bets. Both hoped that they'd find something down there that they could use to discredit Dumbledore, but Lucius especially was concerned about exactly what might be revealed regarding his involvement. In essence, if they brought a journalist of any type down with them, they wouldn't have as much control over what information got out and how. On top of that, both of them are proud Slytherins, and had to wonder if the contents of the Chamber might paint their founder in an undesirable light - there wouldn't really be much coming back from discovering a collection of the tenth century's equivalent of an Icha Icha collection...**

 **A response to guest reviewer "Arsenal" on the off chance that they are still reading: I acknowledge my pacing issues, it's something I constantly struggle with. As far as the lack of expansive worldbuilding, I'm sorry but this isn't that type of fic. I'm aiming for more of a "for want of a nail" type of story, where a single divergent element (in this case, Iruka's presence) alters the course of events, as much a thought experiment as anything else. Because that's the central premise, I'm keeping everything else as close to canon as possible unless Iruka's presence would have affected it (in which case, I show those effects). As much fun as it would be to flesh out other aspects of magic or the setting in general, it would add further divergent elements and cause the story to lose focus, something that greatly irritates me when other writers do it. If you prefer stories that expand upon the setting and mythos, that's your preference, but my preference (and thus my writing) is on "what if"-type stories, where one fundamental change cascades throughout the story. If the "what if" is "what if magic worked differently?" then these tastes would probably overlap in such a tale, but if it's something different like "what if Harry reacted differently to X" then throwing in a complex expanded system of magic that's inconsistent with the canon takes focus away from the story's main premise in a way I find detrimental (for example, "Dodging Prison and Stealing Witches: Revenge is Best Served Raw"). It's one thing to expand the setting in necessary ways (creating a more complete Goblin culture in "Harry Crow", for example) but if the added worldbuilding isn't directly relevant to the plot it comes across as the writer being distracted by this other shiny idea they had. I have plenty of shiny ideas, but they won't end up in this fic without good reason.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "CSI: Death by Chocolate" by Beth Einspanier - Charlie Bucket is drowned in chocolate at the new Wonka store in Las Vegas. Watch as Grissom and company go down the rabbit hole in their investigation.**

 **Posted 7 October, 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 67**


	43. 2-13: Press

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Time marched on, and life at Hogwarts soon returned to the closest approximation to normal that was possible in such an environment. The Weasley family had, after some debate, chosen to allow their children to remain at Hogwarts rather than bring them home for a while in the wake of the diary. Their reasoning was largely that pulling them out of school would probably feed the castle's everpresent rumor mill, after which there was no telling what stories would take root regarding what had happened. Albus had, of course, announced to the student body that the Chamber had been found and Slytherin's monster slain in the course of rescuing a kidnapped student. It hadn't taken long for the children to figure out that Filius and Iruka had been involved, though there was still debate over whether Ginny or Harry (or possibly both) had been taken, as their absences had been noted.

Iruka had asked the Headmaster about his theories regarding the diary, but the response he got was less than informative. "There are several possibilities," the wizened wizard stated, "none of them pleasant. Amelia asked the same question several days ago, and I shall give you the same answer I gave to her: Unless and until more information presents itself to clarify the situation, I am not comfortable sharing what amounts to little more than vague hypotheses."

On the student front, given the apparent total lack of trauma counselors in Wizarding Britain, Iruka stepped in to give Ginny someone to talk to. As with Harry, Neville, and Hermione, he reached out to her and did his best to help her recover emotionally from her ordeal. With her parents' permission, he also began teaching her as he had the others, recognizing just how much the ability able to defend her own mind would help to repair her damaged self-respect. Knowing that most members of the Weasley family weren't especially good at keeping secrets, he got Albus, Xeno, and Pandora to vouch for the skills he'd be teaching without sharing too many details. They learned the broad strokes, that Iruka's lessons would help Ginny better protect herself physically and mentally, but accepted that the exact nature of the techniques taught were confidential. It wasn't entirely fair to trade on their still-fresh gratitude to help convince them, but fairness was for samurai, not shinobi.

In the group lessons, the Weasley daughter didn't remain an outsider for long: Her somewhat-lapsed friendship with Luna was quickly rekindled, and the four existing members of S.E.N. soon made it their mission to bring out the strong, vivacious girl their quirky blond friend had described. Ginny was obviously significantly behind the others, but that only seemed to light a spark of determination in her to catch up, and she proved herself an enthusiastic student with a natural aptitude for taijutsu that would likely see her surpassing some of her senpai in less than a year.

Ginny Weasley wasn't the only new face at S.E.N. meetings, either. Filius attended as long and as often as he could, even bringing along supplies to do some of his marking and lesson prep while he watched. After the second time, Iruka asked the Room to provide him with a suitable workspace so that he wouldn't be awkwardly trying to work in the vestibule. More than simply spectating, the Charms professor also eagerly sparred with Iruka, something Albus rarely had time to do, and contributed lessons on magical combat to complement those in taijutsu and bukijutsu. Even Iruka took part in this portion, having little more knowledge of magic than his students.

Amelia Bones had also observed an S.E.N. meeting alongside Albus shortly after the Chamber incident. She had been impressed by Iruka's demonstrations of ninjutsu, genjutsu, and shurikenjutsu; the taijutsu portion simply left her bemoaning the fact that "Muggle fighting" had been cut from the official Auror training programme by Minister Fudge. Her expression had turned sour when she saw just how much combat-oriented material was included in the children's' lessons.

"I felt similarly when Iruka first shifted the focus of his teachings at the beginning of this year," Albus had commented to her, "but he made a rather compelling argument as to why it was necessary. We know that Lord Voldemort is not nearly as dead as we might wish, and that he continues to make attempts on Mister Potter's life. To so utterly fail in killing a helpless babe is a stain he will feel compelled to expunge, and so Harry will remain a target until one or the other is permanently dead. Thus, it is essentially guaranteed that danger will continue to find the lad, and looking at this group I find it impossible to conceive of the other children willingly abandoning him to face that danger on his own. I wish more deeply than words can express that I could keep all of them away from such things, but alas it has already been proven that I cannot. With that fact in mind, I find that I cannot bring myself to object to them learning how to better protect themselves."

"I don't like it," Madam Bones had replied, "but neither can I fault the logic behind it. We'll just have to take it as inspiration to do our best to stop these problems continuing to fall on schoolchildren to resolve."

The only answer she received was a resolute nod.

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The other event of note following after the events of the Chamber was Lucius Malfoy's removal from the Hogwarts Board of Governors. He had apparently overplayed his hand in trying to push Albus out of the Headmaster position, even going so far as to make thinly-veiled threats against the families of those Board members not aligned with him. It was, as usual, nothing that could be proven or prosecuted, but it was clearly the final straw after numerous other offenses. Even Malfoy's allies on the Board distanced themselves from him, angry over the humiliation of having attempted to suspend the Headmaster for failing to resolve a problem immediately after it _had_ been resolved.

This didn't mean that the 'former' Death Eater and his cronies no longer held any sway, but at least their hold had been loosened somewhat.

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Fortunately, the school year managed to finish without any other 'excitement', and the students returned home for the summer. Iruka took Harry to the Grangers' via Side-Along Apparition, to keep up the charade and hide his true residence from those who wished him ill. They did of course make a side-trip on the way, much to the displeasure of Harry's stomach, to quickly scan for any sort of tracking, eavesdropping, or locator spells. Filius had immediately understood the need when Iruka asked about learning the detection charms. There were no unwanted magics present, and the whole thing may have felt a bit over-the-top, but there were really only two kinds of shinobi - those that took reasonable precautions, and those that didn't live to make chuunin.

Unfortunately, the children hadn't even been home a week when Iruka made an unplanned trip back to Crawley, carrying that morning's Daily Prophet. His reason was on the front page, in an article whose headline screamed: _LYING LOCKHART AND THE STOLEN STORIES!_

 _Hogwarts' Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award Gilderoy Lockhart has a terrible secret, writes Daily Prophet investigative correspondent Rita Skeeter. Most of our readers are at least aware of the many heroic exploits recounted in his numerous books. What they are not aware of, however, is that all of these deeds have one thing in common:_

 _None of them were carried out by Gilderoy Lockhart!_

 _Yes, dear reader, you read that correctly! After receiving a tip from a reliable source, this reporter began digging into the background of the famed author, reading through his published works in detail and tracking down some of the people involved in the events described therein, and investigating the man himself. The pattern that emerged was as shocking as it was despicable: In nearly every case of Lockhart's supposed defeat of a Dark creature, evidence surfaced during the investigation indicating that another person, different in each case, had been the true hero (For a full listing of Lockhart's claimed deeds, turn to page 4). Many of these individuals had significant accomplishments both before and after the events in the relevant book, making it all the more plausible that they could have accomplished such deeds._

 _If they_ are _the true heroes, then how can it be that none have raised objections to another wizard claiming credit for their accomplishments? None of them, it would seem, remember the events involved, and neither do most of those closest to them or to the deeds in question. Discovering the truth required extensive research and investigation, but has now been revealed: Each of these heroes has been subjected to Memory Charms!_

 _Detailed examinations by experts in mental magics have found signs of significant memory modification in every witch and wizard that may be the real hero behind one of Gilderoy Lockhart's books. In fact, such signs were present in every witness who attested to Lockhart being the defeater of their respective Dark creature (among those consenting to examination, at least), indicating that their memories had been altered._

 _With answers as to who, what, where, when, and how, all that remained was to ask, "Why?" After speaking to a number of former schoolmates of the current Defense Professor, the answer became clear: Since at least the day he first set foot in Hogwarts as an incoming student, Gilderoy Lockhart has desired one thing above all else - fame. Those who knew him as a student can share many tales of his often outrageous attempts to garner praise and attention to himself (For a history of Gilderoy Lockhart's student years, turn to page 3)._

 _We can only hope that a full investigation by the authorities will confirm the truth, and that this memory-stealing glory hound will not be allowed to continue among the vulnerable young students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (For questions about Gilderoy Lockhart's time as Professor of DADA, turn to page 2)._

 _For details on the investigation that revealed Gilderoy Lockhart's deception, turn to page 5._

On its own, the article would have been worth discussing but not a matter of any urgency. What had Iruka truly worried was a piece on the paper's second page:

 _IS GILDEROY LOCKHART TRYING TO CORRPT THE BOY-WHO-LIVED?_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _Gilderoy Lockhart was hired by Albus Dumbledore as the latest Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after the sudden death of his predecessor, Professor Quirinus Quirrell, under suspicious and mysterious circumstances. Before term had even begun, he was already working to sink his claws into Harry Potter, one of the few wizards who could compete with him in terms of fame, and the only such wizard still young and impressionable. During a publicity event in Diagon Alley last August, he sought out and forcibly grabbed the Boy-Who-Lived, barely twelve years old, and held him in place for a photo the poor child clearly did not want._

 _According to students subjected to his classes, Professor Lockhart started the year with a quiz to test his pupils' knowledge. Ordinarily this would be quite reasonable, as a way for a new teacher to tailor their lessons to what the students already know; ordinarily, the quiz would be about topics beyond said teacher. In what way does knowing Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite colour enable the children to fend off Dark creatures or wizards?_

 _In his very first lesson, the 'Professor' unleashed a swarm of Cornish Pixies upon a classroom full of unsuspecting Second-Years. After attempting to demonstrate a spell that experts consulted by this reporter insist was either his own creation or simply imaginary, he promptly lost his wand to the Pixies and fled the room in terror, abandoning his students, one of whom ended up hanging from a chandelier. Following that disaster, all further classes simply took the form of dramatic retellings and reenactments of excerpts from Lockhart's books, with students standing in for the creatures involved._

 _"It was fun, at first," said one student who asked not to be identified (presumably for fear of being made to forget everything), "but none of the stories ever really taught us much of anything. I heard a couple of Fifth-years worrying if they were going to be able to pass their Defense O.W.L.s."_

 _More sinister than mere incompetent teaching, however, was the man's interest in young second-year student Harry Potter. Multiple reliable sources have confirmed that, starting quite early in the term, the two famous wizards held numerous private meetings, described as 'tutoring sessions'. Given what we now know of Gilderoy Lockhart's actual capabilities and proclivities, questions must be asked about what exactly took place at these 'sessions': Was Lockhart truly teaching anything, and if so, what? What were his real motives? Was he merely getting close to the Boy-Who-Lived to further his own fame, or corrupting the young Potter into an apprentice at his twisted lifestyle? Perhaps he noted the fact that several respected experts in magical theory have posited that it was not Harry Potter, but Lily and/or James Potter who effected the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and thought the poor boy might already be taking his first steps toward stealing the accomplishments of others?_

The article continued on, describing more examples of Lockhart's incompetence while hinting that he may have sought or even carried out inappropriate relationships with students, possibly covering them up with Memory Charms. It was a skillful work of character assassination and scandalmongering, the true forté of Rita Skeeter, but with a surprising amount of truth for the gossip journalist who usually didn't allow mere facts to get in the way of a good story (well, a salacious one at least). What worried Iruka was the fact that she'd brought Harry's tutoring sessions into things, which was why he was making haste to the Grangers' front door.

The door opened to reveal a slightly surprised Monica Granger. "Is everything all right, Professor?" she asked.

"There's a bit of an issue. Nothing dangerous," he reassured her, "but still something that could make trouble for Harry."

"Well then, I guess we should go rescue the lad from his summer homework for a while," Mrs. Granger replied with a welcoming smile as she beckoned Iruka into the house. "Is this something to do with today's Prophet?"

"You've read it?" She nodded. "Then you might as well join in. More minds on the problem wouldn't hurt."

"Makes sense. Do you want me to see if Wendell can get here too?" Monica asked. "He's at the surgery until one, then we'll be switching places for the afternoon."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Iruka replied, "though if our response doesn't end up being too urgent it might be best to double-check our thoughts with him when he gets home."

Soon the two adults and two children were gathered around the kitchen table, with two copies of that day's Prophet laid out between them. "I think we can all agree that Lockhart's career at Hogwarts is finished," the chuunin began to a round of agreeing nods. "Unfortunately, they've dragged Harry's name into things as well. What we need to figure out is whether Harry should respond in some way, and if so, how."

Harry scowled in response. "Can't we just ignore it?" he asked. "Let everybody focus on Lockhart and forget about me for a while?"

"You're the one that took lessons in public relations," Hermione answered him. "Even if Professor Lockhart was a fraud at Defense, he clearly knows a lot about publicity, and since he's sort of the one to get you into this, it's only fair he help get you back out as well."

The bespectacled boy's scowl turned to a thoughtful frown. "He'd probably call this an attack, criticism I mean, and he said there are a few ways to deal with criticism: You can't just defend yourself, he said, since that makes you look defensive and just makes the attacker more believable. First option is to ignore it, but that only works if it's low-key, and you don't want to tell more people about it by responding to it. If you ignore a really public criticism, it turns it into- er, it tells people that, well, they can come up with their own explanations and stuff. Anyway, second response is to attack, make the criticism unbelievable to people by criticizing the person criticizing you, but that's dangerous since it can make you look mean and angry, so you have to be really careful how you use it and how often. Third was to apologize for whatever they say you did wrong, which makes you look humble and noble but also means you're basically admitting they were right, so it's not, well, you don't want to do it too often. Fourth is to laugh it off, make like the criticism is silly and ridiculous, so hopefully people will treat it that way and not listen to that particular thing in the future. He really liked using that one, since it let him show off his smile, plus he figured if he laughed at the same critic enough times, people would stop believing that person at all so they wouldn't be able to attack him any more. He did say that it can make people feel like you're laughing off their concerns, rather than the criticism, so that's the risk there. Fifth is to turn it around somehow, make something negative into something positive, or show people why the bad thing is actually good. Professor Lockhart said it's hard to do, and only really works sometimes, for some things, and it can make people feel like you're treating them like idiots if you do it wrong, especially if your explanation is stupid, but if you pull it off it makes you look better than you did before the criticism." Even after close to two years, Harry still shrunk back after such a long speech, still uncomfortable as the center of attention.

"Well," said Hermione, "the first option is out entirely, since this is already in the Prophet."

"The second seems like a particularly bad idea given the nature of the article," added her mother, "as does the fourth, especially since it's true that you _have_ been taking private lessons from him."

"Skeeter isn't really saying you did anything wrong, per se," Iruka contributed, "so apologizing would probably be a bad idea too. That just leaves finding a way to explain to people why this was actually something good..."

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It had taken the group nearly an hour to hammer out the broad outline of a planned response, and another hour and a half to compose and refine said response. After consulting Wendell Granger upon his return home and incorporating a minor tweak he suggested, Iruka and Harry traveled to the Rook to consult the Lovegoods. Having the input of two adult magicals, one of whom was himself a publisher, Iruka returned Harry to the Grangers before making one final visit.

"I see," said Albus. "Under most circumstances, I would advise most strenuously against Harry making any kind of public statement, but having read both this missive and the article to which it responds, I do believe you may have a workable plan. As the public's attention is _already_ on Harry to at least some degree, and this is merely a response, it should be safe enough. It also pleases me to know that Gilderoy at least managed to teach _something_ during his time here." This last bit was said with an uncharacteristic bit of acidity.

Iruka let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. One hurdle passed. "With that in mind, can you think of any further refinements before we send this to the Prophet?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "I feel it is quite adequate, and those changes that I would make are more of style than of substance. Such a thing might possibly leave the final result more polished, but in this case it would perhaps be better to let young Harry's voice rather than mine be the one people hear."

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 _HARRY POTTER, IN HIS OWN WORDS_

 _The following is, in its entirety, a letter sent to the Daily Prophet by none other than the Boy-Who-Lived himself, in response to yesterday's article regarding Gilderoy Lockhart's suspicious activities at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:_

 _To the Daily Prophet, and its readers:_

 _I write this in response to yesterday's article by Rita Skeeter, which questioned the nature of my private tutoring sessions with Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. First and foremost, I wish to thank Ms. Skeeter for promoting the view I've held since I first learned the true story of my parents deaths: It was one or both of my parents who somehow defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and they were the true heroes of that night, not me._

 _Whenever I hear someone refer to me as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' I feel not pride, but sorrow, as I am once again reminded of the night I was robbed of any chance to truly know my parents._

 _Regarding my lessons with Professor Lockhart, shortly after the start of school he offered to advise me on the topic of public relations. As I was raised in the Muggle world, totally ignorant of magic, it came as quite a shock when on my eleventh birthday I found myself mobbed during my first visit to the Leaky Cauldron. Not only was there a hidden world of magic all around, but its people considered me some kind of celebrity - it was a lot to take in for a kid like me, and even now I'm still learning about my place in this world._

 _As much as I wish I could be just 'Harry', I realize that I'll probably not be able to escape the public eye any time soon. That was why I accepted Professor Lockhart's offer, since I've seen plenty of Muggle celebrities go from famous to infamous almost instantly. I needed to learn how to respond to questions about my character, such as yesterday's article, how to avoid making costly mistakes out of ignorance, and how to cope with the pressure of being watched and whispered about everywhere I go._

 _As far as the allegations against Professor Lockhart, I would prefer not to comment. Such investigations and judgments should be left to those older and wiser than myself._

 _I'm just an ordinary twelve-year-old wizard. I enjoy spending time with my friends and playing Quidditch. If I could, I'd gladly trade every bit of fame and affection I've gotten from being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' in exchange for having my family back. I know that can never happen, but I'd be content with just being able to live my life like any other witch and wizard - go to school, have fun with friends, and hopefully some day start a family of my own. If you want to celebrate anything about that Halloween night, celebrate the peace Wizarding Britain gained and remember those brave witches and wizards, my parents included, who sacrificed so much so that we could all have a brighter future._

 _Thank you for your indulgence._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry James Potter_

 _We at the Daily Prophet thank young Mr. Potter for his comments, and offer our best wishes to the young wizard going forward._

In his chambers at Hogwarts, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart set his copy of that day's Prophet aside with a proud, if slightly pained smile. "Well done, Harry my lad," he said softly to the empty rooms he suspected he would not occupy for much longer, "well done indeed."

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 **A/N: Another monster of a chapter. I was originally going to just describe/summarize the articles in the Prophet, but once again had to remind myself: "Show, don't tell." That meant letting Rita loose, and she had a** _ **lot**_ **to say. Writing those articles was a challenge, too; I knew the general points I wanted to hit, but actually arranging them in a sensible order was tough. I hope I managed to pull off Wizarding Britain's favorite muckraker.**

 **So, Ginny is joining S.E.N. - I'd planned on that for a while, originally intending to have S.E.N. include the full Ministry Six, possibly with Gred and Forge added in, but just couldn't find a way to make it happen. When planning the Chamber fight, I'd originally written it with Ron there, and thought about having the Twins and/or Percy along as well, but as the story worked out none of them got involved.**

 **As far as how Rita came to be investigating Lockhart, well, I know who pointed her in that direction and why. Hopefully it'll become clearer to the reader in chapters to come.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Accio Butterflies" by tearlessNevermore - Normally I wouldn't touch a SI-OC fic with a 39.5' pole, but this one manages to keep the OC grounded and relatable (relatable to me, at least), having them influence events for the better without making things too easy.**

 **Posted 21 October 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 68**


	44. 3-1: Serious Business

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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 **Book 3: Umino Iruka and the Marauders**

Public outcry over Rita Skeeter's exposé soon led to the sacking of Gilderoy Lockhart, as well as an investigation by the DMLE. If the scandalmonger's claims could be proven, it was quite likely that the famed author would soon be changing his address to a cell in Azkaban.

Response to Harry's letter was unsurprisingly mixed, at least from what Iruka could glean: Some derided it as a spoiled child's cry for attention, some for even hinting that Gilderoy Lockhart might not be the second coming of Merlin, and some for not condemning Lockhart hard enough, among other reasons. Wendell Granger suggested part of the motivation might also be that Harry's letter reminded people of things they'd prefer to avoid thinking about, or possibly made them feel guilty about indirectly celebrating James and Lily Potter's deaths. Of course, there was also a significant positive response, praising Harry's maturity and humility and expressing belated sympathy for his loss. Most people undoubtedly had no strong feelings either way, and at the end of the day Iruka could only hope that the net effect had been for the better.

The note summoning Iruka to the Headmaster's office was hardly surprising. What _was_ surprising was the topic he wanted to talk about: "I received a concerning report from a friend that lives near to the Dursley family, indicating that she has seen no signs of their nephew this summer. Given that you have clearly been in very recent contact with young Harry, I feel that I must ask you where he is."

The chuunin gave a resigned sigh. He knew the secret wouldn't last forever, but he'd been hoping it would be found out quite _this_ quickly; it had been a mistake to assume that nobody would be keeping an eye on the area. "The Granger family have sought and obtained custody through the Muggle system. Augusta Longbottom and I worked with Amelia Bones to speed things up and make certain everything was legal and solid. Madam Bones also called in Alastor Moody to help her ward the Granger residence."

Albus relaxed slightly. "If both Amelia and Alastor warded that home, that should at least provide those within sufficient warning and opportunity to escape, particularly given that emergency Portkey you asked me for last summer. From the timing of that request, I take it that Vernon Dursley's knee injury was not the accident his wife claimed it to be?"

"That was me," Iruka confirmed, "in response to what I'm fairly certain was his attempt to murder me." At Dumbledore's widened eyes, he gestured towards the cabinet holding the school's Pensieve. "Perhaps it would be best if you saw for yourself," he suggested.

After watching all of the ninja's interactions with the Dursleys in order, the elder wizard was left shaking his head. "Even among Tom's followers, there are few that showed such abject hatred for those unlike them. As much as I might wish that things were otherwise, you were entirely correct in removing Harry from that environment. While it is doubtful that they would have escalated so drastically without your intervention, you chose the best option apparent to you at every juncture."

Iruka nodded. "It was a calculated risk; intimidation always is. Naruto could probably have turned them around and gotten them to treat Harry like family, but he could talk a tiger out of eating meat. There wasn't really anything meaningful we could offer them, other than money, and to be honest they struck me as the type to prefer the opportunity to abuse their nephew over anything we could give them. He was just too valuable as both a servant and a way to feel powerful and superior. And they certainly weren't going to respond to _logic_."

"Far too few people do..." Albus mumbled before shaking himself. "I'm afraid you're right," he sighed, "I have seen their type enough to recognize it. One must wonder how they, and the blood-purist Pureblood families they resemble, would react to the realization that they had so much in common... It would likely be quite entertaining, in any event. Regardless, while I agree with your actions given the circumstances, I also cannot help but wish that Vernon and Petunia Dursley had been better people, not only for the sake of Harry Potter's childhood, but also because they were the only option available for the protections in place."

"When Lily Potter sacrificed herself for her son, she imbued Harry with a powerful protection against her killer. I was able to tie that protection to her sister, through the bond of their shared blood, in order to keep it active and to amplify its effects. Poor Quirinus Quirrell felt the results of that protection firsthand. By taking Harry in, however grudgingly, Petunia sealed the charm I placed upon him; as long as he could call the place where his mother's blood dwelt home, he would be protected."

"By not returning to Privet Drive," the Headmaster continued, "it will prevent this protection from being refreshed. Harry will not be as safe from Lord Voldemort as he would have been and neither will his relatives, although I confess to feeling rather less sympathetic to Vernon and Petunia than toward their son, who is too young to be considered fully responsible for his part in things. My priority was, above all else, Harry's survival. Vernon Dursley's actions make it clear that I failed to consider the possibility of a threat to his life coming from within the household."

"At this point," he concluded, "our best course is to rely primarily upon keeping Mister Potter's summer residence secret. Raising protective wards over the home and obtaining an escape Portkey for its occupants were both wise added layers of defense; I shall have to speak with Amelia about arranging to visit the Granger household myself to see if I can make any additions or enhancements to hers and Alastor's work. There are further measures that might be taken, but they would impose significant burdens upon the Grangers and would be best saved for a time when they are more clearly necessary."

Iruka nodded in agreement. "Secrecy was one of the major reasons I didn't tell you before now." He proceeded to explain his full reasoning regarding Harry's custody and what he expected would happen if it were decided through the Ministry.

"That is quite likely how events would play out," Albus replied, "and an excellent reason to handle the matter discreetly in the Muggle system. It would be hypocrisy of the highest order for me to condemn you for keeping it secret. If anything, it might be best to keep knowledge of Harry's custody strictly need-to-know. I would trust many of Hogwarts' staff with my life, but one need not have ill intent to divulge a secret; accident, coercion, and deception can all loosen even the tightest of lips." Iruka suspected that both of them were thinking of Hagrid.

By the time Iruka left the office, the two had worked out many of the details surrounding Harry's security going forward. The only raincloud on the horizon was the fact that, in order to keep the change of custody as secret as possible, the Grangers' names would have to be kept off the boy's paperwork, unfortunately including his Hogsmeade permission slip.

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It was early July when Headmaster Dumbledore once more called Iruka to his office for a meeting. "There are matters of import to discuss," he stated, "the first of which concerns young Mister Potter. How familiar are you and he with the specific details of the events surrounding his parents' deaths?"

"I've read up on them a bit," Iruka replied, "and the topic has come up on occasion in our discussions. My focus was on the 'how' at first, intending to learn about magical defenses and ways of getting past them, though after the first time Harry talked with me about it all I did some more research so I could answer his questions."

Albus nodded. "You are aware, then, of the role played by one Sirius Black?"

"Death Eater spy, leaked the Potters' location to Riddle, then killed over a dozen people attempting to resist capture, all but one of them innocent bystanders."

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied sadly, "crimes for which he was incarcerated in Azkaban, the prison which currently houses the criminals of Wizarding Britain." Clearly noticing Iruka's slight scowl, he asked, "Is something the matter?"

"When I heard about Azkaban, I naturally read up on it to find out how it is that even highly capable witches and wizards could be kept imprisoned. With wizards as with ninja, individuals with abilities far beyond those of ordinary humans are often difficult to hold against their will; a stone wall is no barrier to someone that can reshape earth and stone at will, or shatter it with a single blow. Reading about Dementors... Shinobi life is hardly all sunshine and roses, and torture is unfortunately an acknowledged practice. Even Konoha, in spite of being relatively gentle and moral, still maintained several expert torturers for the purposes of extracting vital information from captured enemies. That said, I cannot think of any prison in the history of the Elemental Nations that kept its inmates contained through continuous torture. Granted, there have been some leaders of nations or villages that would have used Dementors as both guards and weapons if they'd been available, but the concept still seems terribly excessive. I mean, not just monsters like Death Eaters but even non-violent criminals? And even that pales in comparison to the fact that the Kiss is used both as a form of capital punishment and as a weapon against escape attempts. Simply killing the person would seem like mercy in comparison."

Albus sighed. "I agree with you wholeheartedly, Iruka. Dementors are easily some of the most foul creatures to ever exist, and one of the few whose total eradication I would not object to. Unfortunately, attempts through the prison's history to replace its guards with a more humane solution have invariably failed, largely due to worries that the Dementors would then prey upon innocent civilian populations. There was also the fact that there were no recorded escapes... until now."

Iruka drew the connection immediately. "Sirius Black."

"His cell was discovered to be empty yesterday morning. It was completely intact, the door closed and locked, but its occupant had vanished. A search of the prison, the island, and the surrounding waters has produced no sign of Black alive, Kissed, or dead. The guards reported one odd occurrence prior to his escape: For the past several days, he had been heard repeating the sentence, 'He's at Hogwarts.'"

"The logical conclusion is that he is targeting Harry, attempting to finish what his master started." Iruka finished for him.

"And somehow, the Ministry of Magic has managed to reach that conclusion as well. Doing so clearly expended the entirety of their available reserve of logical thinking, however: Minister Fudge has for some inexplicable reason decided to deploy the Dementors of Azkaban to the mainland to search for Black and, if he should remain at large on 1st September, to guard Hogwarts itself. They have been given orders to Kiss Black immediately upon capture."

After gaping in horrified shock for several moments, the chuunin managed to croak out, "He's stationing those abominations around _children?!_ "

Albus nodded solemnly. "Amelia and I, among others, have urged the Minister against this course of action in the strongest of terms. Unfortunately, he feels a need to be seen as taking action, and is stubbornly disregarding the foolishness of the action he has chosen to take. We can but do our best to protect the children and pray that our efforts are sufficient."

"Setting aside Dementors for the moment," the Headmaster continued, "Harry must be informed of the likelihood that he may once again find himself targeted by a dark wizard. I beg you to impress upon him how ill-advised any attempt to confront such a dangerous man would be, and do your best to make clear the ultimately self-destructive nature of revenge. Keeping Harry safe from Black and the Dementors will be difficult enough without him actively seeking the former out."

"As far as warning Harry against revenge as a goal, I've already talked about that topic with most of my students in S.E.N. - the early life of Uchiha Sasuke is a useful cautionary tale."

"Ah, yes," Albus replied, "I recall you mentioning the man and his obsession with vengeance during his teens."

"You said there were two matters, Headmaster?"

"Indeed, Iruka, thank you for reminding me. I was going to bring the second matter to your attention at the next opportunity, and this meeting provided such. You apparently made quite an impression upon Lucius Malfoy several months ago, and it would seem he has now set out to make your life difficult. I recently became aware of some quiet political maneuvering by our former Head Governor, attempting to build support for a bill prohibiting the Sealing Arts as forbidden Dark magic. He has a willing ally in Undersecretary Umbridge, who would likely be the one sponsoring such a bill, but thus far they are encountering a significant barrier of apathy. Simply put, most witches and wizards know and care so little about Seals that many of those in the Wizengamot would consider such a bill to be a waste of their time and the Ministry's resources. Madam Umbridge is a ruthless political animal, however, and Lucius is both highly charismatic and quite willing to provide certain remunerative or repudiative incentives to bring people around to his way of thinking."

"In other words, he bribes and threatens people." Iruka commented dryly.

"I would never make such a crass accusation against Mr. Malfoy." A bit of the accustomed twinkle had returned to Albus's eyes. "Regardless, while I and other like-minded individuals will of course oppose it, such a bill might begin to gain traction. Until and unless such a proposal is abandoned or soundly defeated, you would do well to mind the image you present both of yourself and of the Sealing Arts. Obviously, any useful application you could find that would be beneficial or at least visible to the Wizarding public might well sway opinion strongly in your favor. Conversely, it would be problematic if a student were to be harmed in some way by a seal."

"I'll certainly keep that in mind," the chuunin reassured his employer. "One thing that might be worth pointing out is the similarity between fuuinjutsu and runic scripts: The languages and methods of scribing them may be different, but both really boil down to using arrangements of written characters to generate a desired effect. Pandora Lovegood and I have even managed some diagrams that use both, which could maybe be used to prove that they're essentially the same thing."

"Good thinking," Dumbledore replied, "that is indeed an argument I will make with some regularity. Other than those who would reject anything foreign by default, I doubt many will consider a novel method of runic magic to be worthy of prohibition. Still, politics being what it is, even if few actually agree with Mister Malfoy's agenda there could yet be many voting in support of it for other reasons. Beyond that, it might be best to keep our eyes and ears open for other moves, as I doubt Lucius will be easily deterred in his little vendetta against you."

Iruka nodded. "He's a bully, a bully whose power has been undermined and reduced. His natural response in such a situation is going to be to lash out against those who took power away from him, basically as a way of reclaiming the power he lost. Chances are he won't be truly happy until he has me either dead, destroyed, or thoroughly cowed - otherwise I'm still a threat, something he can't tolerate. I've encountered and heard of plenty of people cut from the same cloth." He deliberately did _not_ mention Vernon Dursley as being one of those people.

"A reasonable summation of that facet of the man's character," Albus agreed. "Between Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, and the Dementors, I believe we shall both have to borrow a phrase from my old friend Alastor Moody: 'Constant vigilance!'" The last two words were said boldly in a soft, growling false-shout, to chuckles from both wizards. Before leaving to warn Harry and the Grangers, Iruka made sure to get his employer's best guess at Black's capabilities and personality; given the past couple of years, it seemed likely that he'd run into the fugitive sooner or later, and he wanted to be ready.

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"I can't deny that I'm angry," Harry said once Iruka had finished warning him about Sirius Black, "and at least a bit scared too. When you told me about what Black did, a part of me was _happy_ that he was suffering with the Dementors, that he deserved to be hurt as badly as he hurt my family. But while it's true that I wouldn't mind getting my wand on him, or maybe a kunai, I'm not, well, I remember your stories about Sasuke and what hunting for revenge did to him. I don't want to become that person, attack or hurt the people I have _now_ all for the sake of avenging people I had _then_. I can't really guarantee or predict what I'd do if I had Black at my mercy, but I can at least promise I won't go looking for him unless it's to protect somebody."

"That's all we can really ask," Wendell Granger responded, "that and that you'll be careful of Black and those Dementor things, no matter what you end up doing."

Monica placed her hand over her husband's on the table. "From everything we've heard of your parents, I'm sure that they'd prefer you were safe and happy, even if that meant Black got off lightly."

"I'll be as careful as I can be," Harry agreed, "but if the last two years are any hint, I probably won't need to go looking for trouble; _it_ always seems to be looking for _me_. All I can do... all _we_ can do is take care and try to stay as aware of what's going on as we can. That and train, train, train..."

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About a week later Harry got a surprise, and unlike most in his life it was a pleasant one: He received a thick envelope from Remus Lupin, containing both a fairly long letter and a small stack of wizarding photos. Lupin, who had been a Gryffindor Prefect beside Lily then-Evans and a close friend of James Potter at Hogwarts, was one of the people Minerva McGonagall had been trying to contact on Harry's behalf. Her lack of success in reaching the man had been somewhat disheartening to the young Potter, as by all accounts Lupin was the person closest to both his parents that was still alive, sane, and free.

Finally, for whatever reason, contact had finally been established, and now Harry was getting first-hand accounts of his parents during their Hogwarts years. These weren't just the fond reminiscences of teachers recalling favored students, nor the remote perspectives of more distant acquaintances; these were the stories most people _didn't_ know, told by someone who was actually there at the time. That they were accompanied by photographs meant that the envelope's contents were priceless treasures to the twelve-year-old orphan. A few of the pictures were duplicates of those obtained from other sources, but many were more candid shots than had previously been shared, showing not posed moments nor special occasions but snapshots of everyday life, making them all the more precious in their ordinariness.

The first section of the letter itself was mostly occupied with introducing Remus Lupin to Harry Potter, including his close connection to both James and Lily. It also contained an apology for not having written sooner, explaining that he'd been living largely as a recluse for the past decade or so after having lost virtually all of his close friends and associates. He also hinted at having other reasons for avoiding contact that had now been effectively rendered moot, but didn't elaborate.

What followed this opening was promised to be the first of many stories of Harry's parents' Hogwarts years: Really, it was more a series of anecdotes about some of the many, _many_ times James Potter had tried (and failed) to woo Lily Evans. By halfway through reading Harry could barely stay in his chair for laughing so hard. The letter closed with an invitation to write back and a commitment to stay in contact over the summer and speak with Harry in person once term started at Hogwarts.

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Soon after the letter from Remus Lupin came the Hogwarts letters. Hermione's excitement at the prospect of visiting the only all-magical community in Britain dimmed abruptly when she realized that, due to the need to keep Harry's current residence secret, the Grangers couldn't sign his Hogsmeade permission slip. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, "I wish you could go to Hogsmeade too. Then again, with Sirius Black running around who-knows-where, it might not be safe for you to go there until he's caught. I can stay in the castle too, if you'd like, so you're not having to spend the whole day by yourself; we can always visit the village with Iruka-sensei during the summer."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Harry replied, "it's fine. You and Neville can tell me all about it when you guys get back, and I can always spend the time with Ginny, or Luna, or Iruka-sensei. Besides," he continued with a smirk, "it just means I'll have more time than you to work on homework!"

"Prat." The adults chuckled as Hermione swatted his shoulder. "See if I go and bring _you_ anything from Honeydukes now!"

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Another summons from the Headmaster once again had Iruka naming candy to a statue (and how quickly had _that_ somehow become _normal_ for him?) and riding the stairs up to the man's office. After the usual greetings and pleasantries, Albus got down to business.

"I have been fortunate enough to engage a man by the name of Remus Lupin as Defense Professor," he stated, "and judging by your look of recognition I presume that he has already contacted Mister Potter?"

"He has," Iruka confirmed. "Harry was excited to hear from someone that had been so close to both his parents, and they've already started up a correspondence. Mr.- or I guess that should be _Professor_ Lupin has already promised to speak with Harry face-to-face to share more stories."

Dumbledore nodded. "There is something which has almost certainly not been included in Remus's letters, but of which you and a number of other staff members will be made aware. Before I inform you, I must stress two things: First, this information is to be kept strictly secret. It is not truly sinister in nature, but sadly many would perceive it as such. Second, in spite of his condition and the common view of it, Remus Lupin is one of the kindest and most gentle men it has been my pleasure to know."

Taking a deep breath, the Headmaster continued. "When he was a young boy, Remus's father drew the ire of Fenrir Greyback, who at the time all but he believed to be nothing but a Muggle tramp. Unfortunately, Lyall Lupin was correct in spotting the signs of lycanthropy in Greyback, who tracked the Lupin family down at the next full moon and mauled their four-year-old son, infecting the child with his curse."

"In other words, Remus Lupin is a werewolf?" Iruka clarified. At Albus's nod, he shrugged. "He attended Hogwarts for seven years as a student, which means you've already got seven years' worth of practice at making sure his monthly transformations don't put anybody at risk. From what you've told me, he's responsible enough to make sure the protocols are followed and the students are safe. You don't have to worry about my reaction - I honestly view werewolves as sort of a more hard-luck kind of jinchuuriki." He'd explained about bijuu and their sealing into human hosts as part of describing Naruto's early years.

The elder wizard gusted out a sigh of relief. "That is good to hear. Other than the two of us, and obviously Remus, the four Heads of House are aware of his condition, as are Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey. Of those, the only one who may have a poor reaction is Severus Snape, who had a close encounter with Remus during one of his transformations when they were students. I am telling you both because I expect you would have figured it out anyway, due in part to the frequent contact you will have with Remus through Mr. Potter, and because I suspect that you would be better able than most of the staff at dealing with him in his transformed state should things go awry."

"Our precautions now will be somewhat different from those during Professor Lupin's student years," he continued. "At the time, there were no means available of containing a transformed werewolf save for a sufficiently sturdy structure from which they could not escape. We made use of an abandoned house in Hogsmeade, now widely known as the Shrieking Shack. What is _not_ widely known is that the terrifying noises which gave the Shack its moniker, and the reputation as the most haunted house in Britain, were actually produced by Remus Lupin on the nights of the full moon. More recently however, a potioneer by the name of Damocles Belby managed to create what is known as the Wolfsbane Potion. It is not a cure for lycanthropy; rather, if properly brewed and administered it permits the sufferer to retain their human mind and faculties throughout their transformation. With it, a werewolf is able to spend the night of the full moon simply resting in their canine form. Remus will take Wolfsbane for each full moon, and on the nights in question will secure the door to his quarters to avoid being disturbed by the uninformed. Severus will cover the Defense classes on the days their professor is indisposed."

"That... sounds like a nightmare to schedule," Iruka commented. "Why not make use of whatever faculty have free periods during those classes? It would spread the workload around a bit and make scheduling much easier, and I'm sure that people like Filius and Minerva could teach valuable Defense-related topics. Even I could fill in some, have the students doing exercises or doing dodging and accuracy drills; after all, it doesn't matter what spells you can cast if they don't hit or you're too tired to use them."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That _would_ make scheduling more straightforward, yes, though I would still like to give Severus priority. He's wanted to teach Defense for some years now, and letting him handle a few classes will serve as a reward for his improved behavior, the carrot to go with the stick as the expression goes. In any case, everything else of importance for the coming year will be discussed in staff meetings, so there's little point in going over it now."

"A question before I go," the chuunin said, "I take it that Professor Lupin's lycanthropy is part of why he didn't contact Harry before now?"

"That is correct," the Headmaster replied. "Since the end of the war, a number of harsh anti-werewolf laws have been put in place, most written and sponsored by Undersecretary Umbridge. They heavily restrict the freedoms of those suffering from the condition, locking them out of many forms of employment, constraining their travel and activities, and even making it harder for them to have families. Had Remus met with Harry or even written to him, and this were discovered, there was a significant chance that he would have been sent to Azkaban at the very least, and possibly even put to death. Since they are not related to each other, the charge (inaccurate though it may be) would be that he had no legitimate reason to contact Harry, and therefore was attempting to corrupt or infect the child. Thankfully, now that he has been hired to teach here at Hogwarts, even the most strident of bigots in the Ministry would have difficulty arguing such a case. Remus has also long suffered from a deeply-rooted sense of shame regarding his lycanthropy, and may well have believed that Harry was better off without a werewolf in his life."

"I see," Iruka stated. "Well, his first letter had Harry smiling for days, and I mean smiling for real. Hopefully having both of them at Hogwarts will let Harry get to know the closest connection still available to his parents. I'm also kind of interested to meet the man; from the stories Harry has shared from his letters, he certainly seems to have a fun sense of humor."

"Ah, yes," Albus smiled fondly, "Those boys were quite the pranksters in their time, not unlike the Weasley twins today. Some of their tricks may have been in poor taste, or with an element of cruelty that the twins lack, but given events outside the castle at the time and the fact that most of their targets would go on to become Death Eaters..."

"Sounds like it wasn't entirely unwarranted if a few of their pranks crossed the line beyond just being funny, then."

"To a degree, perhaps. There was the one incident, in their sixth year, which in hindsight may have been the first sign that Sirius Black was headed down a darker path than was initially apparent. Such stories, though, would be better left to the telling of those more directly involved."

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 **A/N: I couldn't resist slipping in a slight nod to "Potter's Protector" by mjimeyg.**

 **As often happens, that last scene just refused to present a better place to end it, resulting in one of my signature "cut away before the end" bits.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Connecting the Dots" by Afalstein - Naruto and a number of his friends (and a couple of enemies) end up in the DCAU. Chaos, unsurprisingly, ensues.**

 **Posted 3 November 2016  
Current WIP Chapter: 69**


	45. 3-2: School

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Much of the remaining summer passed without incident. There had been another joint birthday party for Neville and Harry at the Longbottom house, this time thankfully with no interruptions or complications. Wendell and Monica Granger had come along for the party this year, and had gotten their first look at the inside of a magical home. The question of whether or not to invite Ginny had been rendered moot, as the Weasleys had won an annual prize draw from the Daily Prophet and had used a portion of their winnings to gather the entire family on a trip to Egypt to visit Bill. Given Ginny's response to her oldest brother's visit after the Chamber incident, Iruka was glad she'd be spending more time with the young man; it could only help in her recovery from her ordeal.

On his next visit to the Granger home, the chuunin was confronted by a large ginger cat with a squashed-looking face. The feline seemed to scrutinize him briefly before turning and strutting back into the house with a flick of its bottle-brush tail. Hermione informed him that this miniature tiger was a half-kneazle named Crookshanks, that she had picked him up in Diagon Alley, and that he would be accompanying her to Hogwarts. She was also under the somewhat perplexing impression that he was cute and adorable.

It was at the end-of-summer staff meeting that Iruka first met Remus Lupin face-to-face. Despite being in his early thirties the wizard looked closer to the chuunin's age, his mousy brown hair streaked with grey and his pale, scarred face lined from worry and stress. It was a clear demonstration of the harsh toll lycanthropy took on a sufferer's body. His shabby clothing spoke of financial hardships as well, likely due to the endemic prejudice against werewolves. In spite of this, Lupin had a quiet friendliness about him, warmly greeting many of his fellow staff prior to the meeting.

The meeting itself was largely uneventful, save for the announcement of their newest Defense Professor and that Silvanus Kettleburn would be retiring with Hagrid taking his place teaching Care of Magical Creatures. Given the large man's fondness for dangerous creatures, and his naïveté about the threat they posed to people without his durability, Iruka offered his help in preparing and running classes until Hagrid had the hang of things. The last thing they needed, he thought to himself, was something like a dragon or a nundu being brought in for the Third Year classes.

As things were breaking up, Professor Lupin hailed Iruka, asking for his perspective on how Harry was doing. The chuunin shared some brief anecdotes from the past two years, sticking to those that didn't reveal any secrets. Before they parted, he made his own inquiry: "I was hoping we could speak a bit about Sirius Black." The scowl he got in response made it clear that this was a touchy subject for the werewolf, though that was hardly a surprise given the circumstances. "It'll be easier to defend Harry against him if I know more about the man - his capabilities, his skills, his strengths and weaknesses, his personality, and his likely goals and mindset."

"Black is, or at least was, a very capable wizard," Lupin replied. "If it required a wand, he was generally quite good at it, getting high scores on his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense, along with Care of Magical Creatures, and he was no slouch as a duelist. If he's able to get his hands on a wand, he'll be very dangerous. For strengths, probably his ruthlessness and unpredictability, while recklessness would be his biggest weak point. As far as personality or mindset, I'm not sure I can really venture much; he was always fairly erratic and unpredictable, and that was before spending a dozen years surrounded by Dementors. There's also the fact that he clearly had all of us fooled for _years_ , even those who were closest to him. I always thought that he and James were like brothers in all but blood, that Sirius _hated_ Voldemort and the Dark Arts..."

"I know what it feels like," Iruka reassured him sadly, drifting off into recollection. "A colleague of mine, Touji Mizuki, was one of my closest friends. He had been for years, really. Then one day, he tricked one of our students into stealing a forbidden scroll full of dangerous secret techniques. I was the first one to find Naruto, the student, just before Mizuki tried to kill him. Apparently the man I thought was my friend had been plotting to steal the scroll and betray our village to its enemies, framing and murdering a thirteen-year-old boy in the process. He tried to kill both of us, and probably would have succeeded if Naruto hadn't done the impossible and beaten him with one of the techniques from the scroll, having somehow learned it in a matter of hours. That night revealed my best friend as a traitor, but it also marked the beginning for one of the most remarkable young men I've ever taught."

He continued, "I know the pain of having someone so close betray not only you, but everything you value and stand for, everything they themselves had fought to protect. It's been over twenty years, but that night is still one of the most pivotal points in my life."

Lupin looked shocked. "I suppose you do, at that," he finally said after several moments. "As much as I hate bringing this up, Albus said he was going to inform you of my... condition?"

Iruka nodded. "He told me several weeks ago. Why do you ask?"

"You seem strangely comfortable and friendly. Not many people are so at ease in the presence of a werewolf. Even people that have known me for years are still a bit wary around me, flinching if I get too close, but you're treating me like you do everyone else. It's not exactly something I'm used to."

"Professor Lupin, I have known, taught, and worked with and for people far more frightening than you are. I assume Albus was fairly light with the details of my background?"

"Yes," said the soft-spoken werewolf, "he mentioned you were from an isolated and presently unreachable region where magic is used differently, but he wasn't exactly forthcoming with more information. Then again," he added with a wry smile, "it's not exactly his place to go telling your life story, is it?"

"No, no it's not," Iruka chuckled. "Where I'm from, there are a set of nine powerful beings known as the 'bijuu', or Tailed Beasts. They're generally larger than the biggest dragons, and could obliterate a town the size of Hogsmeade in seconds. One of them attacked my village when I was young, and even the full might of our military could do little more than stall it; the attack caused terrible damage and killed a lot of people, including my parents."

"While we now know that they're all of at least human intelligence, and not inherently malevolent, bijuu used to be viewed as creatures of pure wrath and destruction. This, combined with some people's desire for power, led those people to seal the bijuu away. Before you ask, no, I'm nowhere near that level in my skills or power. Anyway, the most common vessels for containing bijuu were human beings. These hosts were known as 'jinchuuriki', which roughly translates to 'the power of human sacrifice' - in essence, they were considered to be a person sacrificed in order to lock away a bijuu. They protected their villages twice over - by locking away a dangerous creature, and by wielding the tremendous power they gained from their prisoner."

"Unfortunately," he continued, "jinchuuriki were rarely well-treated. Their tremendous power, one that they often had only partial control over, left them feared by many. Village leaders often considered jinchuuriki to be nothing more than weapons, powerful engines of destruction to be aimed at their enemies. Many people, out of ignorance, simply identified them with the beast they contained. That student I mentioned, Naruto? The bijuu that attacked our village hit on the night he was born, and his parents sacrificed their lives to seal it into their newborn son. Even though his status was supposed to be kept secret, it was something of an open secret within the village, which led to him being shunned and ostracized by almost everyone throughout his childhood. They all treated him as if he _was_ the beast he contained, and directed all their hate and their grief from the attack straight at an innocent child that had no idea _why_ everyone was so cruel to him."

"Naruto is one of my favorite former students, the current leader of our village, and the father of the boy that I'm fairly certain is responsible for accidentally sending me to Britain. I've seen him at his most dangerous, unleashing his full power against a man that appeared to have just killed the woman Naruto would go on to marry. It was easily one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, right up there with the night I saw the bijuu unleashed against our village. So I'm sorry, Professor Lupin," he grinned cheekily, "but your little once-a-month wolf problem just isn't all that scary to me."

Lupin's mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times before he finally managed to croak out, "I really need to have a chat with the Headmaster..."

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As August ended, Sirius Black remained at large. This meant that, despite the fervent hopes of the staff (and quite a lot of students and others) the morning of the first of September saw the arrival of scores of Dementors surrounding Hogwarts. The first indication Iruka got of their approach was what he could only describe as a dark tingle at the edge of his awareness, a slight triggering of that danger sense that every veteran shinobi developed. Soon after that began, the sun seemed to become increasingly dim and cool, and gazing southward showed a mass of indistinct black shapes approaching the castle grounds. As they grew closer, the air took on a definite chill, and the chuunin could feel an almost genjutsu-like effect trying to twist his emotional state towards fear and despair.

Fortunately that was as bad as it got, as the monsters reached the edge of Hogwarts' wards and began to spread out around the school. While sadly the school's wards were unable to keep them out by force, they did at least mark a boundary they were forbidden from crossing: Headmaster Dumbledore had staunchly refused to allow the soul-sucking fiends onto the school's grounds or into the castle, though he clearly would have preferred they not get anywhere _near_ the students. The Dementors eventually settled mostly into clusters, their attention focused at the various entrances with individuals and smaller groups ranging about. Still, a faint touch of their draining effect remained on everyone in the castle.

This was going to be a hard year.

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The students filing into the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast were far more subdued than they'd been the previous two years. Many were looking pale and shaken, with the members of S.E.N. seeming to be among the worst-off. Professor Lupin, who had ridden the Express for security reasons, had shared a compartment with the five and reported that Dementors had stopped and searched the train. One of the black-cloaked abominations had apparently taken a particular interest in their compartment, and Harry had been especially badly affected, to the point of passing out briefly.

After the Sorting, Headmaster Dumbledore's usually jovial attitude fell away as he warned about the threat posed by the Dementors in one of the direst tones Iruka had ever heard him use. For those students that had seen the man for a couple years at least, this unaccustomed seriousness hammered home the importance of his point at least as much as his words did.

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Iruka stood by Hagrid outside the new Care Professor's hut, waiting for the students to arrive for the man's first ever class as a teacher. The chuunin would be functioning as an assistant and occasional advisor, letting his colleague take the lead. It was the third-year Gryffindors and Slytherins (that same volatile combination again), and he planned to open with one of the more spectacular creatures for the year. Hippogriffs weren't the most harmless of creatures, but they _were_ impressive and reasonably safe as long as one followed a few simple rules: Show them respect, maintain eye contact, bow before approaching, and back away if they don't bow back. Hagrid had coached him on this, and introduced him to the herd, prior to the lesson.

Things didn't start on the most promising of notes, as it turned out that even the textbook Hagrid had chosen was animate and aggressive. "Use it as a reminder that even dangerous creatures can be safe and helpful if you handle them properly," Iruka advised the students after the new Professor told them how to calm their texts, shooting the large man a pointed look to hint that _he_ should be the one delivering this message in future classes.

Harry quickly gained the approval of the Hippogriff he was presented to, and even got a surprise bit of flying time in courtesy of Hagrid; Iruka would talk to the man after class about _asking_ first. After this successful demonstration, the rest of the students were allowed to gradually trickle forward to take their own turns. The original plan had been to just let them forth to mingle with the herd, but the chuunin had advised keeping tighter control over things at least until the Professor got some more experience.

It turned out to be Draco Malfoy who demonstrated the wisdom of Iruka's counsel on the matter, as he proceeded to do exactly what the students had so recently been told _not_ to do and directly insulted the same Hippogriff that had borne Harry aloft. Unsurprisingly to anyone with more brains than hair gel, the creature reared up angrily and slashed at the arrogant boy with its talons.

Iruka had begun moving almost as soon as the blonde nitwit had opened his mouth, and was easily able to get him clear of the danger zone unharmed while Hagrid moved in to corral the offended creature. "Twenty points from Slytherin for disobeying instructions, Mister Malfoy," the chuunin angrily barked out, "and a week's detention for endangering yourself and others and disrupting the lesson. You were explicitly told _not_ to insult the Hippogriffs under any circumstances, and yet you decided to do exactly that at the first opportunity. In the future, if a Professor warns you against a course of action, _listen to them!_ "

The Malfoy scion gaped in shock, though whether over the fact that he'd been attacked or the dressing-down he'd just received was anyone's guess. Finally gathering himself he glared at the Adjunct Professor in outrage. "When my father hears of this-"

"He will probably be wondering how his son failed to follow even simple instructions," the chuunin cut him off coldly. "And that will be another five points from Slytherin for your backtalk. If you cannot be bothered to take direction from your Professors, it begs the question of why you are even here. Rest assured that I will be informing Professor Snape of both your actions and your disrespect. Since you are clearly incapable of behaving yourself, you will spend the rest of this lesson reading from your textbook."

"Yeh'll be gettin' a zero fer the day, too, Malfoy," called Hagrid as he returned from calming the herd. "Keep it up an' yeh'll have ter find another class ter take; I won't have yeh puttin' yerself an' others in danger 'cause yeh can't do as yeh're told."

Scowling and grumbling, the young Slytherin stomped over to a nearby tree and sat down with a sneer, before attempting to read from his textbook without calming it first. After seeing him struggle for a bit, one of his housemates hesitantly reminded him to stroke the book's spine, and received an angry rebuke for their trouble before the boy grudgingly followed their advice. The rest of the class passed without further incident, though many of the students were noticeably more timid around the Hippogriffs now that they'd seen a clear demonstration that they were neither harmless nor placid.

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Professor Snape was certainly unhappy (well, more so than usual) at the report of his student's behavior. "I will be sure to _remind_ Mister Malfoy of the dangers of ignoring his instructors," he drawled angrily, "and inform his parents myself to ensure they receive an accurate report of events. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

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The following Thursday, Harry's class was introduced to a Boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This particular Dark creature was a shapeshifter that fed on fear, and thus took the form of whatever would scare the target most. The defense, apparently, was a specific charm that would alter the form taken according to the caster's will - as laughter was somehow painful to Boggarts, the goal was to force it into a form you found funny rather than scary. Hermione was the only S.E.N. member to face the creature during their class; for her it took the form of Minerva McGonagall telling her she'd failed all her classes and was being expelled. Her counter caused the false Minerva to begin meowing like a cat and playing with a toy mouse. Professor Lupin informed Harry and Neville after the class that he felt it best that neither Lord Voldemort nor Bellatrix Lestrange make a sudden appearance in front of a bunch of students. Iruka had been impressed to hear that Harry thought it would much more likely take the form of a Dementor for him. When asked for suggestions on how to make a Dementor funny, something Harry was really struggling with, the chuunin's best idea at the time was to turn its cloak bright orange.

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 **A/N: Yes, they're still celebrating Hermione's birthday. Since not a lot has changed, recounting the little party wouldn't be very interesting - this isn't Harry Crow with its elaborate birthdays.**

 **I changed what Hermione did to her Boggart because the canonical version wasn't funny, just less threatening. I'd like to think that my version would be worth at least a chuckle from those witnessing.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "A Thin Veneer" by AlbertG - It's gone a long time without updating, but it's still an impressive Star Trek / Babylon 5 crossover.**

 **Posted 18 November 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 69**


	46. 3-3: Fright Night

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The first full moon of the term (technically the second, as Professor Lupin had needed to beg off soon after the Leaving Feast because of his transformation) saw various faculty members covering Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Iruka ended up teaching four of these lessons, none of which included members of S.E.N., and each went similarly:

"Good morning, everyone," he said to the group of fourth-year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, "Professor Lupin has been taken ill, so you've got me covering for today's lesson. We're going to be almost purely practical work, and I won't be assigning any _required_ homework, but I will be giving you something to do going forward that will make you not only better at defending yourself, but also healthier."

"I'd like to start off with a question for all of you: What is the first step in defending yourself against a threat?" Several hands rose in the air, and he pointed to a Hufflepuff student.

"Cast a shield spell?" the boy ventured

"Nope," Iruka replied, "that comes later."

"Cast a curse?" came from a Slytherin girl.

"Also no, that kind of response is around the same time as a shield spell would be. Other ideas?" A lot fewer hands were still up.

"Apparate away?" tried a boy in green-and-silver.

"No, but take one point for Slytherin for a decent, if overlooked response; if you can get away from a threat, be it person or beast, that's often the best action to take. The first step to defending yourself is _noticing the threat_. You can't protect yourself effectively from an attack you don't know is coming. Technically one could say that preparing yourself is the true first step, but that's more something that you do long before any threat comes. Regardless, remaining aware of your surroundings lets you notice danger sooner, giving you more time to react."

"The second step," he continued, "is to _identify_ the threat. You'd defend yourself very differently from a Dark wizard than you would from a creature like a Boggart. Once you know you're in danger and from what, _then_ you respond to the danger as appropriate."

"Also, fighting against an attacker, human or not, should be your last resort. Only fight if you can't escape, or if you have to protect something or someone. Never start a fight unless you either need to do so or have an overwhelming advantage."

"Those are the basics that are so basic many instructors don't even think to teach them. Now," the chuunin said with a toothy grin, "it's time to get to the first part of the practical - exercise! I can see by your expressions that you're confused. What does exercise have to do with Defense? The answer, children, is _stamina_. If you're in good shape, you can fight longer or run away longer. I had a student back in my homeland who defeated many powerful opponents in large part by outlasting them; they'd be tiring out and getting weak and sloppy while he was still going strong. So, to work on your stamina," his grin became even wider, "it's time for some calisthenics!"

Twenty minutes later, Iruka was fairly certain that at least a quarter of the class was trying to murder him with their eyes. Witches and wizards were mostly fairly indolent, doing things by magic or having things done for them rather than putting hard work into them, so only a handful of students weren't looking half-dead by the time he ran them all through cooldown exercises. "If you do this at least once or twice a week, you'll soon notice it getting easier, and it won't be too long before you start feeling the benefits elsewhere as well. I won't demand you do it, and couldn't even if I wanted to, but I will recommend keeping fit. Even if you never need it to defend yourselves, I'm sure your boyfriends and girlfriends will appreciate the effects on your physique." He definitely got a kick out of the sudden epidemic of blushes.

"Now, for the rest of the class, we'll be doing some drills. Everyone find a partner, and stand across from each other in two lines five meters apart. Make sure to space yourselves out far enough that your outstretched fingertips can't reach those of your neighbors on either side." As the students began pairing off, he continued. "When I say 'go' this line," he indicated the group to his left, "will begin casting low-powered stinging hexes at their partners. The partners will attempt to dodge; no shields, counterspells, or counterattacks. Once one of your spells misses or is dodged, put your wand away - it's your partner's turn to cast at you and your turn to dodge. Keep switching back and forth like this."

"This is to help you train your accuracy and your ability to dodge unfriendly spells. After all, it doesn't matter how powerful a spell is if it never hits."

The rest of the class was spent on the accuracy/evasion drill. Iruka did have to step in a few times when someone cast with too much power, or used another spell, but by the end of the class he was satisfied that he'd given the students a start at becoming more able to keep themselves safe.

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Things apparently became a bit tense among the third-year Gryffindors around mid-October: Crookshanks had begun hunting after Ronald Weasley's elderly pet rat Scabbers, leaving the boy angry at Hermione for her cat's actions. She, in turn, defended with the fact that cats naturally hunted rodents, and that they were on the approved pets list, unlike rats. Neither had managed to sway the other, and it had led to a flare-up of the acrimony that had been quietly simmering in the background for the past two years. Needless to say, it wasn't a fun situation, and Ginny was in a particularly difficult position due to her friendship with the older bookworm. It also didn't help Ron's temper that his sister was starting to favor Hermione's side of the argument over his, which just meant that the youngest Weasley was also in a less-than-stellar mood.

"At least he's stopped bragging and going on about his new wand," the young redhead groused during weekend training. "I mean sure, he was using an old wand of Charlie's before, and it's nice he's got a wand of his own now, but he just wouldn't shut up about the bloody thing!"

"D'you think that might be why he was having so much trouble in Charms and Transfiguration?" Harry asked. "When I got my wand, Ollivander told me that I'd never get as good results from using a wand that didn't choose me."

"It's possible," Luna replied dreamily, "though personally I suspect it's due to Wrackspurts. Ronald has always had a particularly severe infestation."

While his students were mostly paying attention to the byplay, Iruka noticed Neville looking oddly downcast. A suspicion developed in the chuunin's mind, and he whispered a question to Filius during the next spellcasting portion of the training session. After subtly taking a good look at the boy's wand, the Charms Professor gave the shinobi a firm nod.

When the session ended, as the students were on their way back to their Houses, Iruka called out, "Neville, could you hold up a moment?"

The young Gryffindor waved his friends off and approached the two Professors. "What is it, Sensei?"

"I feel like I need to ask this, Neville: The wand you use - it was someone else's first, wasn't it?"

While he may have been growing more confident and self-assured over the past two years, his reaction to this question proved that the timid version of Neville Longbottom that first arrived at Hogwarts was far from being completely banished. He seemed to hunch in on himself a bit, his head drooping, as if expecting to be punished or berated. "It's my dad's;" the boy said quietly, "Gran says it's a way to honor him, that it's a powerful wand for a powerful wizard."

Filius shook his head. "That is not how wands work, and Madam Longbottom should know this. Wands _must_ be individually matched to the witch or wizard in order for both wand and wielder to work at their fullest potential. I'd thought your struggles in my class due to a mental block, a lack of confidence in your own magic, and your marked improvement over time seemed to validate that hypothesis. Knowing that you're using a legacy wand, though... That certainly explains your difficulties, and makes your progress quite impressive. If you're this capable with an ill-suited wand, I should very much like to see what you can do with a wand of your own."

Approaching the student that already towered over him, the Charms Professor continued gently. "Mister Longbottom... Neville... That wand chose your father. _You_ are not your father, nor are you your mother, although you bear aspects of both of them - you are your own wizard. If you wish to honor your parents' love and heroism, do it by becoming the best wizard _you_ can be. If you agree, one of us will speak with your grandmother about getting you to Ollivander's at the soonest opportunity to find a wand of your own."

Neville's head rose slowly, and he measured both Filius and Iruka with a gaze mixing hope and trepidation before giving a single hesitant nod.

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With a Hogsmeade weekend coming up shortly, it was decided that Iruka and Neville would meet Madam Longbottom in the Three Broomsticks, then Floo from there to the Leaky Cauldron and walk to Ollivander's, where they were greeted by the proprietor. "Ah, Iruka Umino, beech and unicorn hair, eleven inches, springy, and Augusta Longbottom, elm and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, stiff, welcome. And this must be young Neville? I had expected to see you over two years ago, but better late than never. May I ask what wand you have been using until now?"

"Um, my father's," the nervous boy replied.

"Hmm... Frank Longbottom's wand, aspen and unicorn hair, twelve and one quarter inches, firm. May I see it?" Neville hesitantly, reverently handed the wand over. "Ah, yes, it has been quite well cared-for, still in excellent shape, but it still pines for your father's hand. No, this wand is unlikely to ever recognize any master but him, not unless things change rather drastically; I dare say it's probably been giving you a great deal of trouble in your spellcasting. Perhaps you should hold this, Madam Longbottom," the wandmaker said while passing the wand to the witch, "while we find a wand that chooses your grandson as its master?"

It only took about a dozen tries before they found a match. As soon as Neville's hand closed around the handle, his eyes widened and his mouth gaped as a warm wind that smelled of freshly-turned earth swirled around the shop. "Cherry and unicorn tail hair," Ollivander announced, "thirteen inches, resilient. A wand suited for a wizard of great potential." Madam Longbottom scowled, prompting the man to continue with a bit more haste. "Many European witches and wizards dismiss cherry wood because of the tree's showy blossoms, but such wands garner great prestige among the wizards of Japan, and are in fact capable of truly frightening power. This wand is neither frivolous nor ornamental, nor would it have chosen a wizard of less than exceptional potency. In fact, I would advise you, Mister Longbottom, to take some care in your spellcasting until you grow accustomed to your new focus, as your spells will likely manifest with far greater power than you have previously experienced."

Iruka gave a polite cough. "There's... well, there's another aspect to cherry trees that I ought to mention: They all bloom around the same time, and the blossoms last for only a couple of weeks at most before the petals fall. It can be spectacularly beautiful, but is also very brief. Because of this, my people view the cherry blossom as an emblem of mortality, the fragility and brevity of life, and of the beauty of impermanence. Such concepts are, sadly, not as foreign to Neville as to most of his peers." He gave his student a sad smile, one mirrored by Madam Longbottom as she placed a hand proudly on her grandson's shoulder.

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Shortly after the Halloween Feast that night, the castle was put on high alert. Apparently Sirius Black had somehow made it not only to Hogwarts, not only into the castle proper, but all the way to the portrait guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. When she had refused him entry, he slashed at her canvas with a knife. All of this was discovered by the Gryffindor students returning to their House after the feast. Iruka spent the night protectively watching over the student body, who had all been gathered in the Great Hall and were sleeping in purple sleeping bags conjured by the Headmaster.

"Shouldn't one or two of us stay here, Albus?" the chuunin had asked. "If Black is so dangerous, I'm not comfortable leaving the students to defend themselves. I have the least knowledge of the castle, so I wouldn't be much help at finding all the hiding places a Hogwarts graduate might know."

Dumbledore had considered for a few moments. "A good point, Iruka. You remain here and watch over the children. Keep them safe, and handle any other matters which require adult intervention. The rest of us shall search in pairs, so that those who aren't fighters will be safe and those who can fight will have extra eyes and ears aiding them."

The rest of the staff had soon been paired up and departed, and Iruka secured the Hall doors before taking up a position that gave him a good view of the Hall while also being in prime position to ambush someone coming in.

Fortunately, the night passed without further incident; unfortunately, Black made a clean getaway.

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The Headmaster called a staff meeting the next day to discuss the previous night's incident. After everyone had confirmed that they'd seen no signs of Sirius Black, Iruka floated a question: "How could he have gotten so far? Obviously he's got some method of bypassing Dementors, since he managed to escape Azkaban, but to get all the way to Gryffindor Tower unseen and unimpeded?"

The first response was Severus Snape shooting Remus Lupin a venomous glare. "Likely he had inside help."

Albus shook his head. "As I said last night, Severus, I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it. Regardless, the portraits, ghosts, and elves reported seeing nothing out of the ordinary last night, with the obvious exception of the Fat Lady. I am afraid that Hogwarts Castle is a hive of secret passages and hidden ways, one that even after nearly a century I have yet to fully explore and understand. It is quite possible that the man knew of routes that would avoid many of the eyes and ears of the castle, particularly given his experience as a prankster."

This gave the chuunin an idea. "Professor Lupin, you and Black were part of the same group of pranksters - do _you_ have any ideas of how Black got in and out?"

"A few," the werewolf admitted, "the four of us mapped out a lot of the secret passages into, out of, and within the castle while we were students. There were so many that I've probably forgotten a lot of them, but I'll share what I do remember. The trouble is, can we really go around blocking off all those passages? A lot of them serve as useful shortcuts for getting around the castle, and I'm sure the students use them today as much as my generation did."

"There are too many of them for monitoring charms to be practical," Filius chimed in, "even if we divided them equally among the staff. We'd all be getting scores of alerts every time classes changed. It might be possible to restrict the charms to only operate after-hours, but that wouldn't have made any difference last night; Black was in and out before the Feast had even ended."

"Maybe we should start by focusing on ways into and out of the castle?" Iruka suggested. "It won't matter if he can get _around_ the castle unseen if he can't get _in_ in the first place. That would make things much harder for him without affecting the students much; we could just tell them that for security reasons, the outer doors are being locked at night. A few couples will miss out on moonlit evening strolls by the lake, but those are probably less romantic than they used to be thanks to the Dementors."

"That does seem a reasonable compromise," Albus said as several other staff nodded their agreement. "Very well, we will lock the castle's entrances from dinner through breakfast, and block off all known passages into and out of the school, until Sirius Black has been apprehended. I shall inform the students at lunch today."

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While they waited for the Fat Lady to calm down enough to allow repairs to be made, the entrance to Gryffindor Tower was being operated by a particularly irritating portrait of a man named Sir Cadogan. The painted knight was obsessed with challenging people to duels, and changed the password to the portal with such frequency that students were often caught on the hop.

Harry was now being followed around the castle almost continuously by the staff (and occasionally Percy Weasley). He was chafing at it fairly badly, though Iruka volunteering to handle it more often seemed to make the whole thing more bearable. The third-year Gryffindor would probably have gone insane if he hadn't managed to convince his Head-of-House to allow him to attend Quidditch practice as long as an adult supervised. Even over two years out of the cupboard, he was still understandably not fond of any form of confinement, and flying was still his favorite form of relaxation.

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 **A/N: That staff meeting scene was written by basically having the characters voice my thought process in close to real time. Seriously, whatever ideas or arguments I came up with ended up in the mouth of a character before I did much consideration further.**

 **Between car shopping, Thanksgiving, and various other interruptions, I have gotten literally no writing done in the last few weeks. Times like this are why I keep such a large buffer of un-posted chapters.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Harry Potter, et al, and the Keystone Council" by OlegGunnarsson - It's still a work-in-progress, but a brilliantly unique story. Basically, it follows five versions of Harry (including one that would be Canon!Harry were it not for their link) that are able to communicate mentally with each other. It's very well-written and does an amazing job of balancing the overlapping and divergent events between the five different realities.**

 **Posted 02 December 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 69  
**


	47. 3-4: Intrusion

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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As the first Quidditch match of the season approached, the inhabitants of Hogwarts Castle received a clear lesson in why Scots Gaelic (the local regional language) had so many terms for inclement weather and its effects on people. That November was cold, dark, dreary, rainy, and just generally foul. It was worse than at any point since Iruka had arrived in Britain, and the prevailing theory in the castle was that the Dementors were at fault.

The weather was particularly nasty on the day of the game itself: A fierce thunderstorm was attempting to simultaneously blow away and drown anyone who dared step outside. Virtually everyone in the stands was, to use the local term, drookit. Even so, many of the students were still cheering and excited as the players zoomed through the rain and wind, the thrill of the game heightened by the millennium-old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

It was as Harry was shooting after the elusive Snitch that Iruka realized that the everpresent pull on his mind and chakra from the Dementors was growing, and doing so alarmingly quickly. "Filius," he whisper-shouted to his colleague, grabbing the Charms Professor by the shoulder, "Dementors!"

The diminutive duelling champion frowned in confusion and concentration for a moment, before his eyes widened in horror. " **Expecto Patronum**!" he shouted, as a glowing silver weasel shot out of his wand. It was joined seconds later by a silvery phoenix, and several seconds after that by a several other ethereal animals.

All of these protector spirits were soon streaking down towards the pitch, where dozens of black-robed figures were gliding out into the stadium as the temperature plummeted. Even with multiple castings of the Patronus Charm active, there were too many Dementors and too many nearby people for the monsters' auras to be blocked completely. Iruka felt cold, weak, and miserable; the scars from Mizuki's blades began to ache, and he could almost hear the roar of a gigantic nine-tailed fox spirit. Thankfully the guards of Azkaban were soon driven into retreat, and their effects receded as they withdrew.

Madam Hooch, meanwhile, had blown her whistle and ordered a time-out before flying up to the faculty seats and speaking with Albus. After a brief discussion, she flew away as the Headmaster's magically-amplified voice boomed over the stadium: "Today's game will be halted until such time as we can guarantee that the Ministry's Dementors will not be making another appearance. Students, please exit the stands in an orderly fashion and follow the staff back to the castle; hot chocolate will be provided in the Great Hall, and Madam Pomfrey will wish to see anyone suffering from more severe Dementor exposure. I would also ask the Prefects and other upper-year students to assist their juniors with drying spells. Thank you all." Iruka was close enough to see the barely-restrained fury under his employer's gentle demeanor. He suspected that Minister Fudge and whoever was in charge of the Dementor deployment would be hearing from the Grand Sorcerer very soon...

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A badly shaken Harry had been dragged by his friends (and Sealing teacher) to see the school's resident Healer. "Dementors!" she ranted to nobody in particular, "As if Quidditch weren't dangerous enough, as if I didn't get enough students in here with concussions and broken bones and all manner of other injuries, now those fools at the Ministry have decided to add Dementors to the mix! If it weren't for my Healer's Oaths I'd be half-tempted to take my wand to whoever was supposed to be controlling those horrid creatures." After that point she settled down into angry grumbling while checking over those worst-affected by the intruders on the pitch.

"You too, Professor?" Madam Pomfrey asked as Iruka stepped up after all of the students had been checked over and pronounced fit enough to join their fellows in the Great Hall.

"I've never been that close to them before," he explained, "so I don't know if my experience was typical or a more severe case. Some old injuries that haven't hurt since before the current students were born started to ache, and I thought I heard something..."

The mediwitch tutted sympathetically. "I take it that these injuries and this sound are from particularly... _unpleasant_ incidents in your past?" Iruka nodded. "Reminders of past trauma or other troubled memories are a common symptom of Dementor exposure. Those who have particularly bad experiences in their background tend to be more susceptible to those demons' aura. In cases of severe exposure, victims can be driven into a sort of fugue state, trapped in their worst memories; this _usually_ only happens to prisoners in Azkaban's high security wing, but it can occur in other cases as well."

"The more I learn about those monsters, the more horrified I become that this country's government actually _employs_ them," the chuunin said sourly.

"You'll hear no argument from me on that point."

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Given the lack of reporters at the Quidditch match, the lead story of the next morning's Daily Prophet came as something of a shock: ' _MINISTRY DEMENTORS ATTACK HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH GAME!_ ' screamed the headline, under which the subtitle stated, ' _BOY-WHO-LIVED BADLY AFFECTED_ '. The article itself, penned by Rita Skeeter, was surprisingly accurate when discussing the Dementors themselves, describing how they had invaded the pitch despite being forbidden from entering Hogwarts' grounds.

From there, the facts began to thin out and the insinuations started to take over, as it noted that the school's Charms teacher had cast the first Patronus, rather than its Headmaster or Defense teacher, and questioned how it was that someone of Albus Dumbledore's abilities was not the first to recognize the threat to his students. Skeeter had somehow discovered that Harry had been among those worst-affected, despite being relatively far from the Dementors, and even mentioned hearing that he'd 'fainted in fright' when one invaded his compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Her description of these events painted the third-year as delicate, almost tragic. Iruka could already see several Slytherin students pointing to the article, looking over at his pupil, and snickering, while a number of girls throughout the Great Hall were sighing dramatically and casting sympathetic looks towards the boy. Given what the chuunin had seen of fangirls in the past, it wouldn't surprise him if one or two offered to 'comfort' the young Gryffindor.

While the article as a whole was mostly decrying Ministry incompetence, reading 'underneath the underneath" highlighted the more subtle (by Wizarding standards) digs at Harry and Albus. Of course, complaining about government incompetence was so common that those aspects would soon fade from many people's minds, leaving only the quieter messages they concealed.

Iruka just hoped that the initial public outrage might help the Headmaster gain some traction with Fudge on the Dementor issue.

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At their next private session, Harry confessed a somewhat confused set of emotions towards the Dementors. He was still very much afraid of them, and hated what they did to him and to others, but that was now tinged with a slight desire to return to that state. Apparently, during the attack at the Quidditch match, he'd nearly passed out again from the creatures' auras, and again had heard a woman's screaming voice as they approached. This time, however, the screams had been slightly clearer, and the words he'd been able to make out (combined with what Madam Pomfrey had said about Dementors dredging up bad memories) led him to realize that he was actually hearing his mother's last moments. On one side, it was a horrific way to remember one's parents, and a terrible method of accessing that memory; on the other, it was the only memory he had of his mother's voice, his only direct connection to either of his parents.

By the time Harry headed out, Iruka knew the boy was still conflicted in his feelings, but at least they'd gotten to the point where he had a clearer understanding of what he felt and why. Given the Dementors' strong influence on them (and a couple of other S.E.N. members), the chuunin resolved to ask Professor Lupin about supplementary lessons.

The Defense Professor agreed to meet with Iruka and his students and begin teaching them about the Patronus charm, though he didn't think they'd be able to get far before winter hols. "Even then," he warned, "there's no guarantee that any of you will be able to cast a corporeal Patronus. It's a difficult spell, at least N.E.W.T.-level, and even some Aurors can't pull it off reliably. Perversely enough, it's even harder to cast in the presence of Dementors, exactly when you need it most. Second- and third-year students, even gifted ones, aren't likely to be able to produce more than a misty shield."

"Even that," Iruka replied, "even if only one of them can cast it, is more of a defense than they have now. I'm especially worried about Harry; those Dementors seem to take a disturbing interest in him, and with his sensitivity to them..." Lupin nodded soberly.

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November turned to December and the temperature outside the castle (and inside, in many places) continued to fall. As the fall term was coming to an end, Iruka found himself wandering through Hogsmeade while chatting with several of his colleagues. Their pleasant mood was somewhat soured when they ran into Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.

"Why Deputy Headmistress," the portly wizard called, "what a pleasure to see you today!" As he greeted Minerva with the bland congeniality employed by politicians everywhere, his eyes flicked to the others. Though Filius's presence brought a brief look of recognition, the Minister's gaze slid past Hagrid as though he weren't even there (which was actually somewhat impressive, given how hard it was to _not_ notice Rubeus Hagrid) before touching on Iruka with a slight spark of well-hidden disgust.

"Minister," Minerva nodded with a tight smile. "What brings you to Hogsmeade today?"

"Oh, I just felt like checking up on a few things personally," the Minister replied pleasantly, "the hunt for Black, mostly, though I was about to check up on a tipple to warm up at the Three Broomsticks before heading up to take lunch with Dumbledore." His face brightened, as if he'd just had an idea. "Why don't you come and join me? My treat!"

A brief round of looks passed between the group of teachers before Minerva gave another polite smile. "We'd be delighted, Minister."

Soon enough the five of them were seated at the nicer of the two pubs in Hogsmeade. Iruka's attention was immediately drawn when one of the decorated trees floated into a new position, and he saw it moving to hide a table at which Neville and Hermione sat with a conspicuous Harry-sized gap between them. It was a decent bit of improvisation, even if it was a little clumsy in execution - he'd have to give them some pointers later.

The chuunin's attention was drawn back to his own table as their drinks arrived: Minerva and Filius had chosen non-alcoholic beverages, not wanting to drink in front of the students, and Iruka had followed suit with a hot chocolate. Hagrid's order of four pints of ale had caused Fudge's expression to tighten slightly, but it was probably because of the expense rather than the choice of beverage considering he himself selected rum. The Minister ended up inviting Madam Rosmerta to join them at the table as well, though Iruka wondered whether his reasons were social, political, or related to her low-cut top.

In the conversation that followed, the pub's proprietor made some pointed comments regarding the Dementors' effect on her business and the townspeople. Fudge's reply that the monsters were angry over being barred from Hogwarts' grounds didn't win him any sympathy from those present. Proving that he had at least _some_ skills as a politician, the man quickly pivoted the discussion onto the topic of Sirius Black. When they reached the topic of the Fidelius Charm, Iruka spoke up.

"I've heard of that spell," he ventured, "but the way the Potters used it left me a bit confused. Why couldn't James or Lily Potter have been the Secret Keeper, and who actually cast the charm?"

Filius's eyes glinted with his enthusiasm at imparting knowledge. "Second question first, I can only assume it was Lily who cast the Fidelius; it's a tricky spell, close to if not Mastery-level, but she was easily one of the most brilliant Charms students it's been my pleasure to teach. It had to be her or James, in any case, because part of the casting involves giving the secret over, so it has to be a secret that belongs at least in part to the caster. I could place the charm upon my own office, for example, but not yours. As for being their own Secret Keeper, well, that's one of the real limitations of the Fidelius Charm: If the Secret Keeper is hidden by the spell, it puts a growing strain on the magic. They can stay for brief periods, but the longer they remain hidden the greater the strain, to the point where it will eventually overcome the caster's skill and power and the concealment will fall completely. As tragic as the results were in this case, it's likely for the best - imagine someone being able to totally hide their existence from everyone, the ways that could be abused..." Everyone at the table shuddered at the thought.

Shaking his head to clear it, the tiny Professor continued. "Regardless, those are two of the main limitations on the Fidelius charm, the third being that the power required to cast it successfully rises with several factors - how obvious the secret is, the size of the object or area being hidden, the number of people who already know the secret prior to its being hidden, and their familiarity with it. Even Merlin couldn't have hidden a large public location like Hogwarts or the Ministry. Other factors can complicate it further, of course, but those are the major ones. It's really a pity that it's such a difficult charm, since I'm sure everyone would like to be able to keep at least a small hiding spot for things like valuables or important documents."

The Minister's eyes briefly glazed over at Filius's last thought, before he picked his narrative back up. Iruka couldn't help but scowl at the recounting of Black's treachery, knowing all too well the pain (emotional and physical) of such a betrayal. Hagrid's rant brought up some questions that the chuunin resolved to ask Albus about later, but for now he was focused on absorbing the first-hand account. It seemed a bit odd that Black would be helpful and not even attempt some sort of sabotage or sneak attack, especially given Hagrid's lack of a wand, but then again giants were quite resistant to magic. For a wizard, picking a fight with a half-giant at close range would be practically suicide. Beyond that, shock and madness both tended to make people act less predictably.

Peter Pettigrew's demise highlighted just how dangerous a magic-user Black could be, prompting another question from Iruka. "Excuse me, Minister, but is there any indication of whether or not Black might have a wand? Any reports from someone that their wand's gone missing, or a sighting of him using magic?"

Fudge shook his head. "No, thank Merlin, so far there's been no reports suggesting that he's gotten his hands on a wand. I think I may put out an announcement in tomorrow's Prophet reminding people to report missing wands to the DMLE, though, just to be safe."

As the story wound down, the group departed and went their separate ways. On his way out, Iruka gave a meaningful glance at Hermione and Neville, both of whom looked a bit sheepish under his gaze.

* * *

 **A/N: If I got the term correct (and please correct me if I didn't), "drookit" means "soaked to the skin" in Scots Gaelic (or Scottish, or whatever else you want to call it). It's a useful word, and one I wish English had picked up as a loanword.**

 **Also yes, that's right, Rita's buzzing around. What, you thought that anti-fuuinjutsu bill was Lucius's only play?**

 **My original plan had been for Harry to fall from his broom as in canon, and Iruka to take advantage of the heavy rain to cushion his landing with a water jutsu, in the process showing ninjutsu to everyone. However, no plan survives first contact with the characters, and I realized that Iruka would act as something of a Dementor canary: He's got enough bad experiences to be more strongly affected than most, plus his mental discipline (especially monitoring himself for genjutsu and the like) lets him note a more subtle level of effect that others would miss, and long-ingrained shinobi practice means he's particularly aware of sudden, anomalous changes (since for ninja, these usually mean someone's about to try and kill you). Detecting the Dementors' approach in advance meant Patronus charms being cast early, which blunted and shortened the attack. On top of this, Harry is** _ **slightly**_ **more Dementor-resistant than in canon because of his training with Iruka; it's not enough to keep him from passing out on the Express, but here when combined with the earlier and stronger Patronus response it meant that he managed to stay on his broom, even if he's still badly affected.**

 **The limitations stated above for the Fidelius Charm are my own invention, designed to make sense of how it is (and isn't) used in canon. For example, only the Flamels could have cast it to hide the Philosopher's Stone, and neither of them had the raw power necessary to conceal such a famous and magically potent item. Iruka's experience with Mizuki makes him much less skeptical of the idea that Sirius betrayed the Potters, given the parallels between the two cases.**

 **A question for my readers, since I'm honestly a bit stumped: How do you investigate a crime when the only available expert on key evidence is a suspect because they're an expert on said evidence? Madam Bones would really like some ideas. Edited to add: This is actually _not_ Sirius-related.  
**

 **Fic Recommendation: "One Small Kindness" by DigitalTart - Uchiha Mikoto helps young Naruto, and the course of events changes drastically.**

 **Posted 16 December 2018  
Edited 16 December 2018: Tweaked the A/N to more clearly explain a couple of points.  
Current WIP Chapter: 69**


	48. 3-5: Map

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

Discussing Harry's clandestine visit to Hogsmeade would have to wait a while longer, as the Hogwarts Express took the students back to London for their winter break the very next morning. Several Patronus-capable staff members took the train as well, to defend against further "searches" by the Dementors. Harry would be met at the platform by Xeno and Pandora Lovegood, accompanying them to the Rook for a while before being taken home to the Grangers'.

After giving the kids a couple of days to settle in and spend with family (something the Granger parents were very gradually becoming for Harry), Iruka decided it was time to have a talk with his briefly-wayward student. A walk beyond the castle's wards, one Apparition, a walk and a knock later, he was face-to-face with Wendell Granger. "Professor, what a pleasant surprise! Or at least I hope it's pleasant; there's no trouble, is there, Black-sightings or the like?"

"Nothing so dire," the ninja chuckled lightly, "though I _do_ need to have a few words with Harry and possibly Hermione, something you or your wife should probably be part of as well."

"Well in that case, you'd better come in. Actually, you'd better come in regardless; it's bloody cold out today. Harry! Hermione!" the dentist called deeper into the house as they walked in, "Professor Umino in the kitchen!"

The two children descended the stairs with a sound reminiscent of the world's most uncoordinated pony at a canter before half-jogging into the kitchen. "What is it, Iruka-sensei?" Hermione asked, before visibly halting herself from launching into one of her streams of interrogation.

Iruka favored his student with a small proud smile before addressing both teens. "Well, it starts during the most recent school visit to Hogsmeade." Harry's upbringing, such as it was, showed here as the boy showed no hints of nervousness that could be caught by most untrained eyes. "Several of the staff were having a drink with Minister Fudge in the Three Broomsticks when one of the Christmas trees apparently decided to relocate itself. I asked Professor Sprout about it, of course, when I got back to the castle. After all, I wasn't aware of any form of ambulatory shrub that would be safe around students, and she couldn't think of one that fit either. We checked with Madam Rosmerta, and she swore up and down that she'd just cut some ordinary firs, and I was going to ask you if you'd seen any details that would be useful given how close you were, but I should probably stop before your father sprains something."

Sure enough, Wendell Granger was sitting there very obviously trying not to burst out laughing at Iruka's affectedly-innocent delivery, and finally let loose with a brief bit of cackling once it was clear the jig was up. His daughter simply crossed her arms and huffed, "Honestly..."

"But yes," the ninja continued, "I saw you and Neville, along with a gap that I'm reasonably certain held Harry until around the time we came in. Your idea of gaining some cover wasn't a bad one, necessarily, but moving a brightly-decorated tree is the kind of thing that draws attention, exactly what you wanted to avoid right then. I suppose I'll be working a lesson on concealment and misdirection into an upcoming group practice. Anyway, Harry, I wanted to know how you managed to get down to the village and back without getting caught by Filch or attacked by Dementors."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, before the bespectacled boy said to his teacher, "I'll go get it." A dash out of the room and upstairs was followed a minute later by a dash back, with Harry holding a folded piece of parchment. "I was going to show you this after Christmas hols, but now works too." He laid the parchment out on the table, pulled out his wand, and touched its tip to the sheet, intoning, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Lines began to spread outward from the wandtip, splitting, turning, crossing, and rejoining, and began to form into what was recognizable as a map of some sort. As this happened, green ink wrote words at the top of the page in a florid script:

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _are proud to present_

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

As the map filled out, showing what was unmistakably Hogwarts, Iruka could see several small dots labeled with the names of students, staff, and even ghosts. Remarkably, the movement of these dots suggested that not only did the map show the layout of Hogwarts, it also tracked the movements of the castle's occupants in real time. His mind spun wildly at the immense tactical and security advantages such a map could represent, depending on how accurate it truly was. Still, he was more than a little concerned...

"Where did you get this, Harry? And are you sure it's safe, after that diary last year?"

"I got it from Fred and George, they've had it for a couple years already and they're- well, I think they've always been like that, at least. Anyway, I also know who made it, from Professor Lupin's stories about my parents. My dad had a group of friends that did pranks kinda like the twins do, and they were called the Marauders, or that's what they called themselves at least. Prongs is my dad, and Moony is Professor Lupin, so it's actually sort of like a family heirloom. It even shows a bunch of secret passages, like this one from the statue of the one-eyed witch to the cellar of Honeydukes was the one I used that day." It was a sign of how much Harry was beginning to recover from his time with his relatives that he'd spoken so long and with such enthusiasm.

"Sounds like you've got that covered, at least," Iruka replied, "but it was still reckless of you to leave the castle without telling someone, even if it was just me. If something had happened to you, even something innocent like falling and hurting your leg, we wouldn't have known where to look for you. Even when you don't have an escaped murderer hunting you, remember that we adults are responsible for your safety."

"I'd also like to borrow this map starting before you all get back to the castle," he continued, "just until Black is dealt with. I'm sure you can see how useful it could be for spotting him if he tries to get at you again?" Harry nodded. "I'd also like your permission to have Professors Lupin, Flitwick, and Dumbledore see if they can copy the enchantments, both so that there can be spare maps while you keep the original safe and so the staff can use them when there's a problem, like if a student goes missing or there's an intruder in the castle."

Hermione's eyes were sparkling with excitement. "They could even use them at night to watch for students out of bounds, without having to leave their rooms unless they see something they need to deal with! It would be a huge help to safety and discipline!" she defended from her father's and teacher's amused looks, not noticing Harry leaning back from her with an aghast expression on his face.

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Returning to Hogwarts, Iruka quickly contacted the three professors he hoped to speak with, and soon all four men had gathered in the Headmaster's office. "So, Iruka," Albus began, "your note indicated that you had something which we might find both interesting and useful to large degrees. Would you care to enlighten us?"

Smiling, the chuunin pulled the currently-blank Map from his robes and laid it on the Headmaster's desk. Seeing the hint of recognition in Remus's eyes, he smirked. "Perhaps Mister Moony would like to do the honors?"

After a blink of surprise, the younger man smiled and placed his wandtip on the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Albus and Filius watched in amazement as the Marauder's Map took shape. Soon both of them were casting various diagnostic spells over the item and bombarding their werewolf colleague with both praise for his and his friends' ingenuity and questions regarding how they'd created such a marvelous device. Lupin apparently knew a great deal about the Map's creation, having been the most academic among the four, but his knowledge lacked key elements.

"I could reproduce the map aspect of it right away, and the hide-and-reveal function pretty quickly afterward." His expression turned sheepish. "It's also got some minor defenses, in that it's designed to refuse to function for Severus Snape and to insult him if he tries to activate it or learn its secrets. Something like that could take a few days, longer for a more complex set of scripted responses. What I _can't_ help you with is actually tying it into the castle's wards. Without that link the Homonculous Charm gets scrambled by the castle's Unplottable wards, fouling the tracking and identification functions, and the passwords to things like secret passages won't update if they're changed. Unfortunately, the ward-related magic was Black's work, and at least some of the spells he used were family secrets."

Behind them, a portrait of a particularly unpleasant-looking individual scoffed. "An ingenious use of the family magics, if disappointingly frivolous."

"I don't suppose you might be able to shed some light on the spells involved, Phineas?" Albus addressed the portrait, which simply sneered in response. "I thought not. Well then, I think that we should create prototype copies for the moment for at least Filius and myself to tinker with, as our schedules permit. Between our knowledge of magic beyond that of a quartet of Hogwarts students and my access to the castle's wards, perhaps we might be able to find an alternative solution. Of course, with the school year on and Black still skulking about, how much time we will actually have is anyone's guess."

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As the Hogwarts Express pulled back into Hogsmeade Station, returning the students after their winter holidays, Iruka was watching over the activated Marauder's Map alongside Filius, while Remus was among several staff members guarding the station and the path to the castle. Harry and the other students would be particularly exposed and vulnerable between the train and the castle's wards, and beyond that the mass confusion of so many children on the move would present a golden opportunity for Black to sneak in. Thus, the two gazing at the map served as overwatch, monitoring the castle and grounds for intruders.

Iruka was splitting his attention between scans of the grounds and looking over the stream of returning students that manifested as small clusters of moving dots spread out in a line between train and castle, each cluster representing the occupants of one of the school's carriages. It was one of these clusters that caused his brows to furrow, or more accurately one name attached to said cluster. "Filius," he said, "did Peter Pettigrew have any younger relatives, perhaps a nephew or niece that might be of Hogwarts age?"

The Charms Professor shook his head. "No," he replied, "other than his mother, who passed away several years ago, he was the last member of his family."

"Then we may have a very big problem. Look." The ninja pointed to the cluster of dots that had drawn his attention - _Dean Thomas_ , _Seamus Finnegan_ , _Ronald Weasley_ , and _Peter Pettigrew_.

Filius's eyes widened. Patronus messages were soon sent off to both the Headmaster and the Defense Professor, both of whose dots began to move rapidly towards the antechamber off the Entrance Hall in which the two Professors were watching the Map. Iruka, meanwhile, was keeping his eyes on the anomalous dot and label, his instincts telling him that whoever this was would prove to be of vital importance.

Headmaster Dumbledore arrived first, having somewhat less distance to cover, but Remus wasn't far behind. "You said you'd seen something on the Map," the Defense Professor said quickly, "is it Black?"

Iruka shook his head. "No, not Black, something more mysterious. There's no way to break this gently: Peter Pettigrew appears to be alive." He pointed toward the cluster of dots on the Map.

Remus dashed forward, gaping in disbelief at the name on the enchanted parchment. Albus followed at a more sedate pace, his expression one of concern and deep thought. "How could this be?" the elder wizard asked, "Remus, you would have seen those students boarding the carriage. Surely you would have recognized Peter and reacted to his presence, had he been visible, so he must be Disillusioned or otherwise hidden."

A flicker of emotion flashed across the lycanthrope's face. "You know something," Iruka stated, "something you haven't told us. Whatever it is, we need to know, and we need to know _now_."

Lupin sighed. "Our names as Marauders weren't random. Mine is presumably fairly obvious, but the other three... In our fifth year, all three of them completed the Animagus transformation so that they could stay with me during the full moon. Werewolves are aggressive towards humans, but they tend to ignore animals, so as long as they remained in their Animagus forms they'd be fairly safe. It made things easier on me, since the wolf tended to go berserk when it was confined alone, resorting to attacking it surroundings and even itself, but having company caused it to relax."

"As for their forms," he continued, pointing to the relevant names at the top of the Map, "James was a stag, Black a large black dog, and Peter a common brown rat."

It took only seconds for Iruka to put the pieces together. "Flippy!" he called. His assigned elf appeared with a crack. "There is an old Daily Prophet from this past summer on the table beside my desk in my office. Please bring it here immediately." Less than a minute later they had the paper laid out beside the Map. "Remus, look at the photo on the front page, focus on the youngest Weasley boy."

Confused, the werewolf did as he was bid. "Wormtail!" he cried out moments later.

"I thought so," the chuunin said. "I remembered that he had a pet rat, since Hermione Granger's cat has been hunting it all term, resulting in no small amount of friction between Ronald and my students. The cat is half-Kneazle; it must have known something wasn't right about that rat."

"And you picked up this archive copy of the Prophet after our chat with the Minister just before the holidays," Filius stated. "I'm guessing you wanted to look over the issue that had seemingly prompted Black's escape, in hopes of finding clues as to what could rouse him so after twelve years of inaction?"

Iruka nodded. "Ronald Weasley is closest to Pettigrew in the carriage, he has a pet rat, Pettigrew could _become_ a rat, and the boy and his pet appear on the front page of the issue of the Daily Prophet that Minister Fudge handed to Sirius Black during his inspection tour of Azkaban. It's not Harry that Black is here for, it's Pettigrew."

"One mystery solved," Albus said seriously, "only to prompt more questions. Chief among them is why Peter has not revealed himself since that fateful day, and what his motives are in hiding as a child's pet. We will need to retrieve him, discreetly, as soon as we can without frightening or endangering the students. As much as I hope that he is innocent of any wrongdoing, I fear that we must act on the presumption that he might prove violently uncooperative."

"Our biggest advantage is that he has no idea that we've noticed him," Iruka stated. "That, combined with the fact that he's been in hiding for twelve years already, means that we're not being forced to act hastily or desperately. I doubt that we could be as ready as we'd like before Weasley and the others reach the castle and head into the Great Hall for dinner, and we definitely do _not_ want to make our move when Pettigrew is in the midst of dozens or hundreds of vulnerable, unpredictable students."

"Indeed," the Headmaster nodded, "the more contained we can keep things the better. Here is what I propose..."

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To an average observer, Minerva McGonagall was approaching the entrance to the Gryffindor common room alone. A more extraordinary observer would see that she was flanked by Albus and Filius, with Iruka marking the rear corner of a tight diamond formation. Several paces back, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape were following behind. All five wizards were under a number of concealment charms, including Disillusionment, Silencing, Notice-Me-Not, and some sort of scent-suppression spell.

Minerva and her three followers stepped through the doorway behind the Fat Lady, while Lupin and Snape took up positions against the corridor walls just outside, wands in hand. The Gryffindor Head had been brought in as the person most able to enter her House's dorms without potentially spooking Pettigrew; her ability to become a cat at a moment's notice was more of a bonus. If Pettigrew _did_ spook, they would rely primarily on Albus and Filius for their wandwork and Iruka for his speed and agility. The two outside were a final backup, but kept farther back as the ones most likely to provoke an unwanted reaction from their target. Snape in particular had been brought in to provide Veritaserum if it was deemed necessary to get answers in a hurry.

Just as the portrait door closed behind the Professorial quartet, Harry descended the stairs from the dorms wearing a serious expression. Surprisingly, he made a beeline for his Head-of-House. "Professor, could you come up and check on something for me? There was an unlabeled Christmas present on my bed when I got in, and I don't know who it's from, and with Black after me, you know..."

Iruka was torn between pleasure at the benefit of a good reason for Minerva's presence in the dorm, pride that his student was learning due diligence, and worry over the suspicious gift and the potential complication in their plans. The Transfiguration teacher simply smiled tightly at her student. "Lead the way, Mister Potter."

Up in the third-year boys' room, Iruka saw Harry's four roommates milling about, casting occasional nervous glances towards the still-wrapped present sitting untouched on the young Potter's bed. Minerva cast several diagnostic spells over the package before nodding in satisfaction. "I can detect nothing outwardly dangerous about it," she stated, "though I feel it may be best if I were to bring it to those on staff who would know better just how to check it thoroughly."

Harry shrugged self-consciously. "Whatever you think is best, Professor."

The Gryffindor Head proceeded to conjure a metal box, levitate the gift into it, then seal on a lid of the same metal before shrinking and pocketing the whole mess. Returning to their original purpose, she then scanned the room with her eyes as if looking for contraband, before fixing her gaze on Ronald Weasley and his 'pet'. "Mister Weasley," she said, "is your pet unwell? It looks rather distressed." She wasn't lying: The rat was twitching and frequently glancing around the room, visibly nervous; its hair was patchy and thinning, giving it a very sickly appearance.

The redheaded boy nodded. "Yeah, Professor, Scabbers's been sick or something ever since summer. I tried some rat tonic from Magical Menagerie, but it didn't work."

Minerva gave her student a sympathetic look. "Would you mind if I took him for a while? I know some people that might be able to determine what's wrong." When he nodded again and wordlessly held his rat out towards her, she quickly conjured a cage into which he placed the animal. "I shall inform you as soon as is practical regarding his prognosis," she stated reassuringly before leaving the room, her three shadows in tow.

As they descended the stairs, several spells shot from Albus's and Filius's positions in the formation, causing the cage (and on one occasion its occupant) to glow a variety of colors. This was, per the plan, the two wizards magically sealing and reinforcing the cage to prevent easy escape, as well as indicating that the rat was indeed a human being in disguise. The latter result was further confirmed by said rat's sudden frantic attempts to escape its confinement. "I would not recommend attempting to transform, Mr. Pettigrew," Minerva spoke quietly but coldly, "as your cage has been charmed strong enough not to break in such a circumstance." To this, 'Scabbers' responded by cowering in one corner of his tiny prison.

Once the portrait doorway had closed behind them, all five men lifted their Disillusionment Charms, shimmering into view to the visibly ever-escalating terror of the caged rat-man until a Stunner left him insensate. The six then proceeded to the Headmaster's office, where the rat was removed from its cage while all present had their wands leveled. A spell from Minerva caused the rodent to transform into a short, portly, balding man whose facial features strongly recalled his Animagus form. His hair and clothing were badly disheveled, and he was distinctly grimy from head to toe. The eyes of Iruka's colleagues hardened further as they saw visible proof of the rat's true nature and identity. Remus's face was stony and unreadable, but Snape's glare at their prisoner held nothing but burning hatred.

Several spells (and a physical search by Iruka) later, and they felt confident that Pettigrew was now thoroughly disarmed. Of the two wands recovered, one belonged to the man himself while the other Albus and Snape were able to confirm belonged to the semi-late Dark Lord Voldemort. At a suggestion from Filius, Iruka pulled up their captive's left sleeve, baring a faded but still clearly present Dark Mark, which elicited a low growl from Remus.

"A clearer picture begins to resolve itself," Albus stated. "Minerva, please summon Amelia Bones and her Aurors with all due haste. You may use the fireplace in this office. Severus, have the Veritaserum ready. All of you, keep your wands ready; it now seems possible, if not probable, that our _guest_ was the one to murder those Muggles twelve years ago. Should that be true, it would mean that he is able - and possibly inclined - to use extremely destructive magic in attempting to escape; it would also suggest that Sirius Black badly underestimated him that day, and twelve innocent people died as a result." As the Headmaster spoke, he had conjured a sturdy-looking wooden armchair, seated Pettigrew, and bound him to it with conjured ropes, making sure his Dark Mark was uncovered and facing upward. He also cast several other spells, though Iruka wasn't certain of their purpose other than presumably to further secure the now-revealed Death Eater.

The Floo soon disgorged Madam Bones, flanked by a pair of Aurors. One was a tall, dark-skinned man whose powerful stride and professional air contrasted with a congenial face; the other was an attractive young woman with her pink hair up in spikes. The latter exited the Floo smoothly, before promptly tripping over something and stumbling into one of the nearby tables, upsetting several of the delicate instruments it bore. Both of her colleagues and several of the staff present quirked small smiles of fond amusement. "Amelia, Kingsley, Nym-" "OY!" "-Miss Tonks," the Headmaster greeted smoothly despite the female Auror's outraged shout. "A pleasure to see you all, though I wish it was under better circumstances."

"Albus," Bones greeted, "Minerva said that you'd caught an intruder you wanted me to see. I take it this is him?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied, "Madam Bones, might I introduce you to the supposedly-late Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin, First Class, unregistered rat Animagus, and marked Death Eater. He has apparently spent the last several years as the pet rat of one of Harry Potter's dorm-mates."

All three of the newcomers' eyes widened in shock. "How..." the DMLE Head began.

Albus briefly recounted the sequence of events, beginning with Iruka's overwatch role and ending with the search that revealed Pettigrew's second, highly incriminating wand. "We were just about to wake and question him, and I felt that it would be best if you were present."

"Why yes," she responded somewhat acidly, "it _would_ be best to have actual law-enforcement personnel present when interrogating a suspected mass-murderer. May I use your Floo to call in a few more of my people? If your theory about the actual events surrounding his confrontation with Black is correct, he's slippery enough and dangerous enough that we'll want backup to keep him properly secured." At the Headmaster's assent, she moved to the fireplace, which several minutes later disgorged four more Aurors.

After a bit of confusion and cajoling, everyone was positioned within the increasingly-crowded office. Spells were cast to seal every door, window, or other potential exit that could be seen. Wands were readied. Given their working theory, nobody wanted to take any chances.

A quick spell roused Pettigrew to wakefulness, and his gaze zigzagged around the room as his fear became almost palpable. Finally, his eyes snapped to the Headmaster. "P-Professor!" he cried out, "You've got to help me! It's Black, he wants to kill me!"

"I am certain he does, Peter," Albus replied so calmly he might have been discussing the weather. "However, certain information has come to light that leaves me wondering precisely _why_ ," now he smiled benignly at the bound man, "but I'm sure that we'll be able to figure it out together. You wouldn't mind answering a few questions for myself and Madam Bones, would you?"

At this moment the office's Floo flared again, causing nearly every head in the room to turn towards the fireplace. Only Iruka's gaze and that of one of the Aurors present remained on Pettigrew, who found himself Stunned and placed in a Full-Body Bind partway through attempting to transform back into his rat form. Ninja and wizard met each others eyes and nodded respectfully before looking over to where Cornelius Fudge was standing, flanked by Dolores Umbridge and yet another Auror. Even as well-lit and open as the Headmaster's office was, with this many people present it was beginning to get distinctly cramped, especially considering how much space was occupied by bookshelves and other furniture.

"Albus!" the Minister cried out, clearly nervous given the number of wands that had reflexively swiveled towards his unexpected arrival, "I've just heard the most alarming rumour and- why are you all standing around a rat in a chair?"

* * *

 **A/N: I'm sorry, but that just seemed like the best place to break the chapter. A scene I'd expected to be fairly brief just kept getting longer and longer, to the point where it just wouldn't have comfortably fit into one chapter.**

 **It will likely not surprise anyone that I've gotten almost no writing done since last posting, outside of a new chapter posted to my ideas-file Leicontis's Laboratory that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Holidays are busy, but I hope you all have enjoyed yours, and that you have a happy New Year!**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Hands Off!" by MoonClaimed - a fun, fluffy little one-shot about Winry finally making her feelings about Ed clear to the boy in question. It was either that, or start beating other girls off with her wrench...**

 **Posted 30 December 2018  
Current WIP Chapter: 69**


	49. 3-6: Interrogation

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

 **Trigger Warning: Mention of what Pettigrew could have done to the Weasley children if he'd been so inclined.**

* * *

The interloper's question refocused everyone on their prisoner, resulting in a large number of angry scowls and a few more sheepish expressions. A spell from Albus's wand had the chair once more occupied by Peter Pettigrew, and several more secured him as he'd been before. "Well done, whoever caught him," the Headmaster said. "Cornelius, I'm afraid I shall have to temporarily disable my office Floo until this matter has been sorted. You are of course welcome to either remain or depart beforehand, but before our prisoner is woken I wish to have this room completely sealed. The last time this man escaped capture, a dozen people were murdered, and none of us here wish to be added to that tally."

Fudge paled and gulped, before rallying. "But... but that's not Black! They said you'd caught an intruder in the castle!"

Dumbledore nodded. "You are correct on both counts, Cornelius. Our intruder in fact appears to be Peter Pettigrew."

"Hem, hem," interjected Umbridge, "Surely I must have misheard you, Headmaster. It is well-known that Peter Pettigrew was murdered by Sirius Black."

"I was Mr. Pettigrew's Transfiguration teacher and Head of House for seven years, Madam Umbridge," Minerva replied archly, "Filius Flitwick was his Charms teacher for the same period, and Remus Lupin one of his closest friends for that long and beyond. All three of us recognize this man as Peter Pettigrew. If _that_ is not sufficient, then his questioning will almost certainly confirm his identity one way or another."

"Well if it _is_ Pettigrew," the Minister said loudly, "then what is he doing all tied up? The man is a hero, Order of Merlin, First Class!"

"In answer to your question, Cornelius," Albus replied tranquilly, "might I first direct your attention to his left forearm?" A distinct widening of Fudge's eyes showed that he'd seen the Mark, and his mouth was opening to emit what was probably some attempt to explain it away when the Headmaster continued: "Furthermore, he was found to be in possession of a wand I recognize as that of the individual whose mark he bears. Add to this that he is known to have been using his disguise to reside in the bedchambers of underage wizards, and it is only prudent that he be treated with suspicion until and unless he is able to satisfactorily explain these facts."

Both Minister and Undersecretary wore sour looks at this, but neither could truly put forward any further objections of even superficial merit given the circumstances. Soon everyone had resumed their positions around the room, with Fudge and Umbridge chivvied outside the circle, and a dictation quill had been set up to record the questioning.

"Sunday, the Second of January, 1993, eight thirty-seven PM. The location is the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Interrogation of an intruder to the castle, subject's name believed to be Peter Pettigrew. Interrogating officer Madam Amelia Bones, DMLE Director. Also present..." Madam Bones listed off the names and official titles of each of those present, which took quite a while (especially for Albus). "Subject is presently restrained and Stunned. Due to an escape attempt shortly prior to this questioning, subject may be re-Stunned as necessary to prevent escape. Given the subject's uncooperative nature, I am authorizing the use of Veritaserum..." This was followed by more administrative information, such as the phial number containing the potion, several official authorizations and attestations, and various other formalities associated with applying a controlled substance to an unwilling subject.

Finally, Pettigrew was awakened and dosed before he could truly begin to protest. After a few seconds, his eyes began to turn glassy as a fine sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. "Potions Master Snape," Bones asked formally, "what is your assessment of the subject's current state?"

The pallid man's glare turned analytical. "The truth potion has taken effect. However, he is attempting to fight it; I would recommend targeted questions which demand simple, unambiguous answers. It is likely that he will attempt to satisfy the compulsion to answer truthfully with incomplete or otherwise misleading truths."

"Your advice is duly noted. Questioning begins."

What followed was a protracted interrogation, stretching well into the night and expending three further doses of truth serum while requiring numerous questions to be repeated with tweaked phrasing in order to dig out further information. Through it all, Pettigrew's struggles against the potion were evident on his face, but in the end they were able to determine several key facts:

Their prisoner was, indeed, Peter Pettigrew.

He was a Death Eater.

He had not been magically coerced into joining Voldemort's side. (Pettigrew had fought this question hardest of all.)

He had been the Potters' Secret Keeper.

He had willingly betrayed the secret of their location to his master.

He had been outside the cottage as James and Lily were murdered, run inside after the explosion, then taken his master's wand and fled when he heard someone else arriving.

Sirius Black was not, to Pettigrew's knowledge, a Death Eater.

Black tracked Pettigrew down, not vice versa.

Pettigrew was the one to blast apart the street, his curse striking a Muggle gas line, and had used the resulting confusion to escape. (This information took over half an hour on its own to extract, given the number of questions required to pin down each of the individual facts.)

He had not peeped nor otherwise engaged in pedophilic behavior towards any of the Weasleys or any of Hogwarts' students. (Nearly everyone present had looked visibly ill when Iruka suggested the topic of questioning, but had agreed that it was necessary to ask.)

Madam Bones had wanted to press for further information, clearly hoping to get something that incriminated some of the 'Imperiused' Death Eaters, but both Fudge and Umbridge had shut that line of questioning down hard.

"But what are we going to _do?!_ " The Minister's face was ashen, his hands shaking, while his Undersecretary looked as if she'd swallowed something foul. "This has to be kept quiet, it'd make the Ministry look a laughingstock... and then there's Black... oh, what a mess!"

"What I want to know," the DMLE Director said angrily, "is why did none of this come out in Black's trial? Even if nobody believed him, a tale like this would have easily been sensational enough to be talked about, and yet this is the first I've heard of it."

Dumbledore frowned in concentration. "I find that I cannot recall Sirius's trial, nor any references to it, and I _should_ have been informed in my role as Chief Warlock of any proceeding of that magnitude."

"There was no mention of it in the Prophet, either," Iruka commented. "When I heard about Black's escape, and the fact that he was thought to be targeting one of my students, I did some research to better understand the threat. There were plenty of articles covering the Potters' deaths, Harry's survival, and their attacker's disappearance, along with the attack on the Longbottoms and various Death Eater arrests and trials. The only article I could find dealing with Black, though, was a third-page mention of the aftermath of his confrontation with Pettigrew and subsequent arrest. Given how central a figure he was in the whole mess, his trial should have been front-page news; is it possible that he was tried in secret somehow?"

"No," Bones stated firmly, "or at least there's no _legal_ way to do it. Does _anyone_ here remember _anything_ about Black's trial?" She was met with nothing but shaking heads. "Headmaster, could you reactivate your Floo?" At a wave of Albus's wand, she stalked over to the fireplace and soon vanished into the green flames after informing all present that she'd be back shortly.

After about fifteen minutes of tense silence broken by occasional attempts at awkward small-talk, the fire flared green again and Madam Bones reemerged, a file folder in her hand and an expression of fury on her face. "I've just looked over the records," she stated coldly while waving the folder, "and Black was not tried in secret. He simply wasn't tried _at all_."

"Impossible!" Umbridge cried angrily. "The Ministry does not make such mistakes. Clearly Black _had_ a trial, but the records were lost! I am certain that an investigation would soon find and _punish_ those responsible." As with the last time he'd seen her mention punishment, Iruka very much did not like the gleam in the witch's eyes at her last sentence.

"Madam Umbridge," Bones responded tightly, clearly trying to restrain herself from cursing (whether verbally or magically) at the obnoxious Undersecretary, "this folder holds the complete record of _all_ Wizengamot proceedings between Black's arrest and my appointment as Director of Magical Law Enforcement. There are no gaps, no missing pages or dates, nor any sign of tampering or omission, and yet the name 'Black' does not appear anywhere. 'Pettigrew' appears only in regards to his Order of Merlin, something which should probably be revisited in light of new information, and 'Potter' in regard to the home in Godric's Hollow, the memorial, and other proposed means of honoring the family."

"No, it can't be!" Fudge's head shook franticly. "That simply _cannot_ be true! The damage it could cause-"

"To who, Minister?" Iruka's interruption drew every eye in the room. Many showed simply surprise and confusion; others (such as Albus, Filius, and Bones) seemed more calculating; Umbridge looked like she wanted to have him roasted on a spit for daring to interrupt the Minister of Magic.

"What?" the Minister asked blankly.

"Who would be damaged by this if it got out?" The chuunin pressed on. "You said it yourself back in the Three Broomsticks recently - you were just a Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time. We already know that the Chief Warlock wasn't involved, nor was Madam Bones. Nobody that would have been part of this miscarriage of justice is still in power, unless you count Bartemius Crouch, so it's no fault of the _current_ Ministry. This isn't a disaster, Minister Fudge; it's an opportunity for you and your Ministry to be seen righting a great wrong."

"Yes... yes!" As Fudge had begun to grasp Iruka's point, his eyes lit up at the promise of adulation. "We show the people that _we_ will get things right! A proper trial, in front of the full Wizengamot! If he's truly guilty of supporting You-Know-Who, we'll prove it and deal with him accordingly, and if he's innocent, it'll show that we're right on the Snitch!"

"There will have to be an investigation, of course;" his Undersecretary picked up, "the people deserve to know who's responsible for sending the last son of a prominent family to Azkaban without a proper trial, and should face appropriate penalties as well as paying restitution."

"Oh, but what about Potter? Black is still after him, and the Dementors are still our best weapon to keep him away..."

"It may be, Cornelius," the Headmaster replied, "that he's _not_ after young Harry. Do you recognize this edition of the Daily Prophet?" He pulled the archive copy Iruka had called for earlier from his robes.

The Minister's brow furrowed. "I suppose it looks familiar. What of it?"

"Professor Umino recalled that you mentioned Mr. Black requesting your copy of the Prophet during your inspection tour of Azkaban, and wondered whether something within that paper had sparked the escape. This is that day's edition, which you would have had on your person at the time. I would direct your attention to the photograph on the front page, particularly the youngest Weasley boy." Everyone in the office crowded around the paper now in Fudge's hands.

Surprising almost nobody, Madam Bones was the first to spot it. "The rat! Pettigrew is an unregistered rat Animagus, and Black must have known about it. He saw this photo and realized that the man responsible for betraying the Potters and framing him was still alive."

"Alive, and sleeping in the same dorm room as his godson," Iruka added, "the son of his best friend. Protection and revenge are both powerful motivators, and I've seen each drive men to extraordinary lengths."

"And Black may be running on _both_ ," Bones shook her head, "between that and his time around the Dementors, I don't relish the idea of getting in his way. Even so, we need to catch him before we can try him."

"Indeed," the Minister replied, "I will have to cancel the Kiss-on-Sight order. The Dementors won't be happy about it, but then again they never are. I'll also have the Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless announce that Black is wanted alive, but without Black himself to take to trial it could all just turn into a great mess if we told people there were questions about his guilt. Better to drink the whole potion at once, as it were."

"Couldn't you just owl him," Iruka asked, "maybe tell him you caught Pettigrew and want to give them both proper trials?"

"We've already tried sending mail to him by owl," stated the tall dark-skinned Auror, "but it all came back unopened. Whether he's cracked because of his time in Azkaban or just rightly suspicious of what charms might be on the mail, he's not touching it."

"What if Albus or Minerva send him a Patronus message first?" Filius's question drew mostly looks of interest, though a few seemed confused and Umbridge looked like she'd stepped in manure. "I know of no way to fake a Messenger Patronus, and they can find someone almost anywhere. That would let us tell him we've caught Pettigrew and found out the truth, and let him know that the owl that's coming has a letter along with parchment, quill, and ink for him to write back."

Thus it was that several of the highest-ranking people in the room came to be standing around the Headmaster's desk collaborating on (and occasionally arguing over) a joint letter to Sirius Black. Because politicians were involved, the final result was overly long and filled with florid language and legal-speak, but at least Madam Bones made certain that it was still clear in its meaning. Finally she, Dumbledore, and Fudge each signed, before the whole thing was packed up with a stack of blank parchment, a quill, and an inkpot, and tied with a bright cyan ribbon conjured by the Headmaster. With some help from a Hogwarts elf, the whole package was soon in the claws of a school owl winging its way to Sirius Black. As soon as the message had been sent out, Minerva drew her wand and shot off a Messenger Patronus through the tower wall and into the night.

"And now," Albus said serenely, "all we can do is wait. Given that we've no idea when or if we will receive a response, perhaps we should adjourn this little gathering? Madam Bones and her Aurors are quite capable, I am sure, of handling the prisoner, and I suspect that you, Cornelius, might be best served by canceling the Kiss-on-Sight order and making whatever other preparations you feel are best before taking your well-earned rest for the night."

"Yes, Dumbledore," Fudge replied with a sigh, "quite a bit to do yet, and already so late! Well, the people do like to see their Ministry hard at work, don't they? Good night, Headmaster, Professors, everyone. Amelia, I want Pettigrew in one of our cells under round-the-clock guard, take whatever precautions are needed to keep him in custody and keep this _quiet_. I want the whole matter brought to the public as a _fait accompli_ , you understand?"

"Of course, Minister," Madam Bones responded, "with your permission I'd like to call in Alastor Moody on this. I know he's technically retired, but if you want precautions, there's nobody better."

"Whatever you think is best," Umbridge simpered. She had slipped back into her usual saccharine persona, but to Iruka's trained eye it was clear that she was still upset about something.

Eventually, the long train of visitors with its treacherous (albeit unconscious) cargo had departed for the Ministry via Floo.

Sitting tiredly in his desk chair, Albus spoke again. "I am sorry by the way, Remus," he addressed the werewolf, "for not calling upon your knowledge of Peter and Sirius during the interrogation and discussions tonight, but given your condition I felt it best to avoid drawing attention to you, particularly with Madam Umbridge in the room."

"That's fine, Headmaster," Remus replied with a resigned smile, "though how long that'll last is anyone's guess. Sooner or later, somebody's going to find out _why_ James, Sirius, and the traitor became Animagi, and from there it's a short trip to me needing to find a new job. Given the supposed Defense Curse, I'm guessing it'll happen by the end of this school year."

"Unfortunately, you are most likely right," Dumbledore said sadly. "Still, at least our students have gotten _one_ year of competent instruction, a feat I can only hope will be repeated next year."

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Several days of intermittent owl correspondence later, Madam Bones returned to the castle and accompanied Remus and Albus out towards the Forbidden Forest. Half an hour or so later, the three of them returned with the addition of a large black dog whose long, matted hair did little to hide how emaciated its frame was underneath. All four then made their way up to the Headmaster's office.

The following Monday saw classes canceled for the day, as several senior members of Hogwarts' faculty were away at the Ministry to attend the trials of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Iruka and Remus both remained behind in the castle, the former both because his involvement could easily be glossed over and because his foreign origins would prejudice the Wizengamot against him, and the latter again because they hoped to keep his lycanthropy under wraps.

That evening's dinner was interrupted by the delivery of a special evening edition of the Prophet, its above-the-fold headline announcing to the world, " **Sirius Black Innocent!** " The article that followed detailed the revelations surrounding Pettigrew, Black, and the Potters. Some details had thankfully been withheld: Pettigrew was said to have been hiding as the pet of a Pureblood family, but not which one (though Hogwarts' rumor mill would likely make that moot), and his discovery was attributed to an unnamed family heirloom belonging to Harry Potter. That latter aspect was played up rather sensationally as James Potter getting justice from beyond the grave. Other articles covered other aspects of the whole mess, such as the revocation of Pettigrew's Order of Merlin, but the largest two past the main story were accounts of the two trials.

Pettigrew was tried first, in recognition of how much the proof of his guilt would contribute to Black's subsequent exoneration. The Wizengamot had been assembled to hear two unspecified trials of high-profile cases when the first prisoner cage rose up through the floor, wrapped in a fine wire mesh, and apparently the revelation of the defendant's identity had provoked an uproar that took over five minutes to calm, and the charges sparked another few minutes of shouting. Once the trial itself finally got started and Pettigrew entered his plea of Not Guilty, the prosecution opened with the fact that he had been hiding for over a decade in spite of almost certainly knowing that he'd been acclaimed a hero. They'd pointed out that he was carrying Voldemort's wand, that he bore the Dark Mark, and that the man's own wand had last cast a blasting curse. Rather than directly state what they believed had happened, they deliberately left the question "Why?" hanging over each piece of evidence. In spite of several objections from Wizengamot members aligned with the blood-purist faction, Pettigrew was again questioned under Veritaserum, using questions selected based on his original interrogation to get the most relevant information more quickly and directly.

Eventually, in spite of his attempted denials, Pettigrew was narrowly convicted of belonging to an illegal organization (the Death Eaters), complicity in two murders and one attempted murder, the killing of twelve Muggles, gross violation of the Statute of Secrecy, and being an unregistered Animagus. He was sentenced to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban's high-security wing, with no possibility of parole. Iruka hoped he got his former friend's old cell.

Black's trial had again begun with a great deal of noise from the Wizengamot and gallery, but that was one of the only similarities. The Ministry had immediately dropped all charges save belonging to an illegal organization, violating the Statute of Secrecy, and being an unregistered Animagus, the last of which he'd pled Guilty to. In contrast to Pettigrew's questioning, where he clearly did not want to be dosed with truth serum and visibly and audibly fought against it throughout, Black happily accepted the potion and answered easily, often volunteering more information than was strictly asked for. Had his trial happened in isolation, the accusations that he had overcome the serum would likely have gained some real traction, but the evidence of the preceding case lent his answers far more credibility. At Black's request (stated to the court prior to being dosed), he was also questioned about most of the same events Pettigrew had, even when they only related to charges that had already been dropped. As the Prophet reporter stated, it did a fairly good job of hammering home that the man in the defendant's chair was innocent of every crime for which he'd been jailed.

The verdicts of Not Guilty on the remaining charges Black was defending against didn't come by a landslide, but the margin was definitely larger than it had been for Pettigrew. Given the man's years of illegal incarceration, the normal penalties for failing to register as an Animagus were waived and he was set free, though he would remain in DMLE protective custody while he recovered at St. Mungo's from his long ordeal, in order to give news of his innocence time to reach the general public and prevent any unfortunate misunderstandings.

Given the fact that the threat was over, the Dementors had been ordered back to Azkaban. The process of moving them had already begun.

At a press conference immediately following the trials, Minister Fudge (flanked by Madam Umbridge and Director Bones) had made clear that his administration had had no part in Sirius Black's wrongful imprisonment, "save to act in good faith upon the belief that those who held our offices before us had carried out their duties honestly and properly. Now that this belief has been called into question, I shall instruct Madam Bones to conduct a thorough investigation to determine how such a grave miscarriage of justice could occur, and a review of the cases of all those currently incarcerated in Azkaban to ensure that no other witch or wizard has been denied the just trial they are due."

"I shall also," his statement continued, "direct suitable compensation to be paid to Sirius Black for the wrongs done to him by the previous Ministry, with the intent to administer fines to those responsible for his lack of trial in order to recoup some of the Ministry's expenditures in this matter in addition to whatever other penalties may be assessed against them." The transcript of the statement went on quite a bit further, and a close read showed that blame was already starting to be pointed towards former DMLE Director Bartemius Crouch, who conveniently enough for Fudge was both a useful political target and wealthy enough (being the last of an old Pureblood family) to pay the heavy fines that would likely ensue. It also helped (though was likely not required) that from what Iruka knew the man quite possibly _was_ responsible.

Albus stood up, tapping his goblet with his fork. "May I have your attention, please," he called as the Great Hall fell silent. "As many of you are now reading, it was recently discovered and today proven that Sirius Black is, rather than a terrible villain, an innocent victim of a great injustice, brought about by prejudice and hasty action. With the situation surrounding him resolved, the Ministry's Dementors are as we speak being withdrawn back to Azkaban," a significant chorus of cheers interrupted him here, "and should all be well away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade by tomorrow morning. Quidditch Captains, please report to your Head of House after the meal to discuss scheduling for the resumed Quidditch season-" This time the cheering was thunderous, and for once came from all four Houses equally. "Yes, yes, we are all quite overjoyed that our beloved House teams can take to the sky once more. I shall let you return to your repast with the simple instruction to remember what happened to Mr. Black and how, so that when it is your generation holding the reins of our society you might prevent such a thing from ever happening again. Thank you."

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 **A/N: Of course Fudge and Umbitch try to screw things up, that's what they** _ **do**_ **. Iruka provides the sensible suggestion at an opportune moment in part because it's a setup for something further down the line (imaginary cookies to anyone that can guess what). With Pettigrew clearly present, Marked, and carrying Voldie's wand, it's much harder for Fudge to deny reality, especially since in this case Snape isn't assuring him that the only witnesses were Confunded (only one 'o' when talking about the spell, folks). All of that, combined with a way for him to look good while making a potential rival/liability (i.e. Crouch Sr.) look bad and an absence of Malfoy bribes to the contrary mean that the** **Moron- er,** ** _Minister_ is actually going to do the right thing, even if it's not really for the right reasons.**

 **I had Iruka not present for the trial both for the reasons stated and because I didn't want to write the trial out explicitly. It's ground that's been covered a million times before by other, better fics than mine, and would mostly be a bunch of boring old witches and wizards following boring courtroom procedure and having a boring debate. I've got enough pacing issues already, and no desire to add to them.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Democracy" by Starfox5 - It gradually bends Neville far from his canon character, but does it in a reasonably believable way.**

 **Posted 13 January 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 70**


	50. 3-7: Fear

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

Both Iruka and Remus did their best to assist the rest of S.E.N. in keeping Harry on an even keel for the next few days as he processed the sudden upheaval of what he thought he knew. It didn't exactly help that Black was Harry's godfather, the man the Potters wanted to care for their son if they couldn't. The thirteen-year-old had grown quite fond of the Grangers, and was worried that Black would take him away from them or expose them to danger.

It was more than a week after the students' return that Minerva remembered that she still had Harry's mysterious Christmas gift, and sheepishly brought it to Filius for inspection. Neither were able to find any curses or other booby-traps, and they deemed it safe to return to its recipient, who had also forgotten about the present in all the chaos and excitement surrounding Pettigrew's capture. He gratefully opened it to find a pair of protective goggles of a type specifically designed for a Seeker to wear over spectacles.

It was a couple days after the trials that the first letters arrived. Black had written to both Harry and Remus from his room at St. Mungo's, making the first moves in reconnecting with the two of them (even if, for Harry, it was more like they were interacting for the first time). The werewolf Professor didn't share the contents of his missive, but Harry's was a mix of hesitant introduction, polite (if generic) 'get to know you' questions, and repeated apologies for failings both real and imagined. From the rambling, semi-coherent prose, it was apparent that the man's emotional state was fragile at best and probably severely unbalanced. The letter also stated that it was early enough in his treatment that the Healers weren't yet confident in estimating when he'd be well enough to leave hospital; the worst of the damage to his body could be corrected in a couple of weeks, with that treatment concluded after six months to a year of potions and checkups, but the mental effects of twelve years of heavy Dementor exposure were far less predictable.

Meanwhile, the lessons on the Patronus charm had finally begun. They were less urgent with the Dementors' removal to Azkaban, but Harry was still determined to be able to protect himself should he ever encounter them again. Hermione was always eager to learn anything new, and the rest of S.E.N. largely just wanted to support their friend.

Professor Lupin arrived last to the History of Magic classroom, where the lesson was scheduled, carrying a large packing case. "Another Boggart," he explained, hefting it slightly. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees Harry, so we'll be able to practice on him."

An explanation of the basics behind the Patronus charm was followed by several minutes of quiet introspection, as each 'student' (including one faculty member) tried to select a suitable happy memory. For his part, Iruka decided to go with Naruto's induction ceremony as Seventh Hokage. Soon enough, a bit of preliminary practice soon saw Harry and Luna producing slight wisps of silvery mist, though doing so was clearly draining and left both breathing heavily. " _Very_ well done, both of you," said a wide-eyed Remus. "The charm takes a lot out of you, as you've no doubt noticed, so take some time and catch your breath. Everyone else, keep working on it. Remember, casting a Patronus takes both intense happiness and substantial magical power; even that bit of mist is more than most adult witches and wizards will ever get, so don't worry if you have trouble managing it. To be honest, I hadn't really expected any of you to produce anything at all for at least a few months, so this is a pleasant surprise. Those that want to try against a Dementor, or at least our simulation, can do so - some people have more success when they really need it, so it might provide a breakthrough. On the other hand, it can also make it much more difficult to cast the spell at all, and either way it's not exactly a fun experience, so don't feel that you have to do it any time soon."

Once he'd recovered his strength, Harry stepped up front to attempt the spell in front of their ersatz Dementor. The case was opened, and the black-cloaked form emerged, seeming to suck away at all the light and heat and joy and life in the room. " **Expecto Patronum**!" Harry called, to no effect. " **Expecto Patronum**! _ **Expecto Patronum**_ _!_ _ **Exp**_ **e** c-" his voice trailed off suddenly as his eyes rolled back in his head and his wand slipped from his nerveless fingers. Iruka dashed forward to catch him as he collapsed, neglecting to realize that this would make _him_ the closest conscious person to the Boggart.

Suddenly, without any sort of transition, the soul-sucking demon was replaced by a figure at once more familiar and utterly alien to the chuunin. The white cape was torn and stained, splotches of a deeper crimson contrasting with the red flames and kanji. Likewise, the black pants and orange shirt were in tatters, with numerous wounds visible underneath. Hair that would usually be a sunny blonde was matted with filth. A usually strong and confident pose was replaced with the slump of exhaustion and defeat. Worst of all, though, were the eyes: Where ordinarily they'd shine like a pair of warm and slightly mischievous sapphires, they were now dull, clouded with fear and despair.

«Iruka-sensei,» Naruto croaked, his normally bold voice weak and plaintive, «I'm sorry. I couldn't... I can't...»

Iruka's heart was hammering in his chest at the scene before him. This couldn't be real, it was wrong; Naruto would never give up like that-

 _It was wrong._

" **KAI!** " the chuunin bellowed, clapping his hands into a Ram seal and disrupting his chakra hard. The NOT-Naruto in front of him was unchanged, merely moaning out another broken apology. Before Iruka could try anything else, Remus was there, stepping between them, and the figure was replaced with the silvery orb of a full moon, which a quick charm transformed into a glittering ball composed of small mirrors and surrounded by bright multicolored lights. In short order, the Boggart was once more locked into its case.

Drawing on his training, Iruka pushed his deep distress aside and focused on checking over his downed student. Harry was still unconscious, his skin pale and clammy, and his pulse was worryingly rapid. His determined focus meant that the shinobi was startled by Remus's approach with a large bar of chocolate.

"He was the same way on the Express," the werewolf stated sadly, absently handing a few squares of chocolate to his colleague. "Given that this wasn't a real Dementor, the effects should fade a bit faster, but it'll still be a bit before he's ready to try again. I'm assuming that whatever you tried there was something from your homeland?" Iruka nodded stiffly. "It's only natural to fall back on familiar techniques and long-ingrained training when you're caught off guard like that. Once Harry's back on his feet I can show you the charm for dealing with Boggarts, maybe have you practice it with a live target, give him time to- easy there, Harry." The Third-Year had begun to stir, immediately redirecting the man's words of reassurance to a more needful recipient.

Harry was helped to a seat in a nearby chair, surrounded by his friends, before Remus began to instruct Iruka on the Boggart-Banishing Spell. Ginny and Luna soon joined the lesson after showing open curiosity and being assured by the young Potter that he'd be fine with just Neville and Hermione. It was a sign of how badly he'd been affected (and perhaps a bit of how far he'd come in the past two years) that he didn't completely wave off all four of his friends. Once the Defense teacher was confident that they all had the incantation and wand movement down, he instructed them to consider their fears and how they might be altered to make them amusing. Judging by the girls' expressions, they weren't having an easy time of it. Thus it was that the chuunin was up front, ready to confront the Dark creature again.

The case opened, and out crawled a battered and broken Naruto. Iruka's cry of " **Riddiculus**!" replaced the bleak figure with a bit of memory: An orange-clad ten-year-old was sulking, spattered with bright multicolored paint, and bound in a comically excessive amount of ropes after Iruka had interrupted one of his pranks. Given the chuckles coming from all present, it was a good choice.

Iruka stepped back, and Ginny moved up. The captured Naruto became a different boy, one Iruka had last seen in spectral form in the Chamber of Secrets. "Well, well, well... Little Ginny Weasley, back again..." Fifteen-year-old Tom Riddle wasn't immediately frightening to most people, but the young redhead's fear of him was more than justified after her experience. She quailed slightly before rallying, her expression one of fierce determination. " **Riddiculus**!" The image of Riddle became slightly younger, his pale skin marred by numerous pimples and some sparse whiskers, and when he attempted to continue speaking his voice promptly squeaked, prompting weak chuckles from both Ginny and Harry.

Next came Luna's turn. It didn't surprise the chuunin at all that the Boggart shifted into the form of Pandora Lovegood as he'd first seen her, but with one major difference - she was dead. With resolve in her slightly moist eyes, the blonde raised her wand and softly incanted " **Riddiculus**." The image of Pandora was now very much alive, seated at her desk, but both desk and witch were covered in some sort of purple pigment, and her hair stood straight back as if blown there by a small explosion. It was the blank expression and confused blinking that pulled a watery giggle from the girl, after which Remus again drove the Boggart back into the case.

"Good job," he stated proudly, "especially our two Second-Years successfully casting a third-year spell."

Harry stood, his face resolute even if his color was still a bit off. "I want to try again."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Remus asked worriedly.

Luna stepped forward. "We'll try casting it together, this time. That way, we'll have double the chances of getting it cast."

The second attempt went no better than the first, with Harry again losing consciousness and the Boggart needing to be driven back into the case. Neither he nor Luna were able to produce even mist in the face of the faux-Dementor, though Iruka thought he saw a faint spark of light flicker at the tip of Luna's wand for a moment. Another period of recovery and practice followed, before a final attempt saw Harry and Luna both generating a misty shield that held the Boggart-mentor back for several seconds and noticeably lessened its effects on everyone in the room.

While it was undoubtedly the biggest success of the lesson, it also provided a clear demonstration of just how taxing the Patronus Charm was to cast, as both students' shields failed after only around fifteen seconds, forcing Remus to once again drive back the Boggart as Harry and Luna moved to tiredly support each other. Both of them were pale, sweaty, panting, and shaking, as if they'd just finished some very taxing exercise. Their tutor for the evening prescribed a full bar each of Honeydukes' chocolate to replenish their energy and recover from the pseudo-Dementor's aura. The lesson wrapped up soon after that, with everyone instructed to think further on their choice of memory and to refrain from trying to practice the charm without adult supervision.

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Of course, given the rather fickle nature of a shinobi's luck, it really shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that the streak of reasonably good news would shortly be broken by a new catastrophe. A few days after the first Patronus lesson, Iruka received word from Madam Pomfrey that a fifth-year Gryffindor boy had been injured in an explosion. Thankfully it was mostly flash-burns and a burst eardrum, nothing the school's Healer couldn't put right in under a week, but the fact remained that the student in question had admitted that his injuries were the result of a locking seal he was trying to make.

"Mister Pibald," the chuunin said sternly as he approached his soon-to-be-former student's bed, eliciting a flinch from the boy in question, "I recall being very clear as far as attempting to energize a seal without my supervision. It should therefore come as no surprise that you are no longer welcome in my classes, though I suppose I should thank you for providing an object lesson to remind my students _why_ I have such a rule. For now, however, I must ask you whether you have any other seals, completed or not, and where they and your other sealing supplies are."

After getting the requested information from the Fifth-Year, Iruka made his way up to Gryffindor tower to confiscate all of the boy's fuuinjutsu-related materials. Entering the dorm, he found Minerva standing beside Pibald's bed (identifiable due to the scorch marks and minor blast damage on the trunk at its foot). "I presume that you were able to obtain the information you needed?" The Scotswoman was visibly upset, her anger at a student's foolish misbehavior warring with her dismay at the injury to one of her Lions.

"I did;" he replied, "there's one notebook near the left-hand end in his trunk, but everything else should be on his desk." Glancing over the items present, the Sealing teacher was able to see that all the items named by his now-former student were where the boy had said they'd be. A cursory flip through the notebook on the table showed no evidence of torn-out pages, though with magic there was no way to be fully certain. "Looks like it's all here."

Minerva, meanwhile, had collected the second notebook from Pibald's trunk, and Iruka took possession of the entire lot. The actual supplies would certainly be put to use by the class, and there was a good chance that with a bit of work he'd be able to use the notes to show his students at least something about how this seal had gone wrong.

After securing the confiscated items in his office, he then made his way to and past Albus's gargoyle bouncer. Once he'd accepted the offered seat, his employer got down to business. "I presume that you have secured Mr. Pibald's Sealing supplies?"

Iruka nodded. "His supplies, and all of his notes and works-in-progress. I haven't had a chance to go over them yet, and it'd be impossible to know for sure without seeing the exact seal he tried to activate, but there are at least half a dozen ways a standard locking seal could go wrong like this, from poor character placement to sloppy calligraphy to carelessly connecting the wrong points. If I _do_ figure out what his exact mistake was, I'm hoping to use it as an example of what not to do and why."

Albus gave a nod of his own, before his expression turned more serious. "It is a near-certainty that Lucius Malfoy and his associates will learn of this incident, and when they do they will surely use it in their attempts to sway people against the Sealing Arts. That Mr. Pibald's injuries were so minor is fortuitous for us as well as for him, as it will greatly reduce the outrage that Lucius might be able to stir up; many will consider it to be much ado about nothing. The situation could be better, but it could also be far worse, and may indeed worsen in the days to come..."

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"I'd say it's worsened, Albus."

It was three days after the minor Sealing mishap, and Iruka once more found himself in the Headmaster's office, both men looking at an article from that morning's Daily Prophet: FOREIGN MAGIC BLOWS UP HOGWARTS STUDENT!

As with many of Skeeter's works, the story bore only the most tenuous resemblance to the actual facts. Fuuinjutsu was treated as some great and ominous mystery and strongly implied to be a form of Dark magic. Pibald was described as 'an underaged child from a respectable family', which would give the ignorant an impression that he was several years younger than in reality, while the 'respectable' was polite code for 'pureblood'. The article stated that he was sent to the Hospital Wing, but not that Madam Pomfrey had easily healed his injuries, nor that the entire incident was caused by a deliberate violation of a teacher's rules and instructions. Iruka himself was portrayed as a savage foreigner, corrupting innocent children and leading them into danger and darkness while a senile Headmaster Dumbledore sat in his office happily sucking on lemon candy.

Overall, it was a remarkably skillful hatchet-job, one that Iruka would probably be more impressed by were he not its primary target.

"This _is_ a bit of a problem, yes," the aged wizard agreed. "I have already fielded several inquiries from concerned parents, members of the Board of Governors, and the Ministry. Thankfully, I believe that I was largely able to reassure them that this report is overblown, which should at least mitigate the damage, but this will still leave some parties more ill-disposed toward both you and your class. There are, unfortunately, many people who take whatever is in the Prophet, or in some cases anything by Ms. Skeeter, as the absolute truth. They, in particular, will for now have a badly tarnished view of both of us, though on the bright side the general inconsistency of the targeting of such pieces means that they will likely soon turn their ire elsewhere and forget this entire matter. I feel that our best strategy will be to weather the immediate storm and allow the matter to be forgotten."

"What about Skeeter?" Iruka asked with a thoughtful frown. "She seems oddly well-informed, as if she has an inside source or some means of snooping here at Hogwarts."

"Alas," Albus answered, "I do not know how it is that she is learning so much, so quickly, although doubtless certain students have been owling her tips. While it is certainly within my authority to ban her from the school's grounds, doing so at the present time would only validate her insinuations against us. It would also be possible to block or intercept the students' mail, but I would never do such a thing for any cause less than a clear necessity for the children's' safety."

"In the meantime, our best recourse is to continue as we have been and trust that the truth will win out."

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 **A/N: I had a reviewer ask last chapter about how the Ministry hopes to contain a rat animagus in Azkaban when a dog escaped. The answer is twofold: First, they didn't know about Sirius, but they do know about Pettigrew. Second, fine wire mesh charmed for durability, along with some tweaks to the cell door alongside specific protocols for feeding and otherwise interacting with him.**

 **Speaking of reviews, am I the only person that finds it annoying when people leave guest reviews stating their intent to stop reading and listing off their complaints? I don't mind if people dislike my work (though I obviously prefer it when readers enjoy it), and constructive criticism is certainly welcome since it can help me improve the quality of the story, but I do like to be able to respond to critics. With a guest reviewer that's not reading any further, the only response I'm able to give is to edit responses into the review itself before approving it, which is kinda awkward.**

 **Some of you might be wondering how Sirius is receiving mental care after I'd previously stated that Wizarding Britain lacked any real resources in that discipline. There's a key difference here, though - Sirius is being treated for** _ **magical**_ **trauma. Unfortunately, wizards (at least in Britain) subscribe to the still-too-common attitude that mental illness is 'all in your head' so to speak, and that it's therefore up to the individual to overcome their own issues. As an aside, I** _ **DESPISE**_ **that attitude, as it creates a stigma against people that are struggling with serious neurological and/or neurochemical problems, causing people to treat the mentally ill as if their illness is a character defect and preventing many sufferers from seeking and/or receiving treatment. If you suffer from mental illness, it is NOT YOUR FAULT, and I urge you in the strongest possible terms to seek treatment if you aren't already being treated.**

 **Sorry to go off on a rant like that, but I've lost two peers to suicide and if there's a chance that my words here might help someone that's suffering, I have to make the attempt.**

 **Sadly, Iruka does not have the necessary raw power to cast a successful Patronus. In answer to the question I'm certain you're wondering about, if he** _ **could**_ **cast one it would take the form of a fox. Prior to the Naruto canon, it would probably have been a dolphin.**

 **We also see Iruka's Boggart. Some of you may have expected it to be Kurama, and my wife suggested the six-tailed form Naruto took after Pain stabbed Hinata, but to me this would be the ultimate horror for him. Naruto is a force of nature, one of the most powerful individuals since the Sage himself, and beyond that has an unstoppable will to protect and win; this Boggart combined the implication of an enemy powerful enough to beat Konoha's greatest defender, terrible harm to someone Iruka cares for deeply, and witnessing that indomitable spirit broken. It's less the direct appearance of the Boggart, and more what its form implies - a threat so terrible that it could cause even Naruto to give up and lose hope.**

 **Now, why did Luna do as well as Harry? Reason #1 is that she's easily the most positive and upbeat character in the story, which combined with her happy home life makes the emotional component of the spell very easy for her. Second is that because she's been training under Iruka the longest, it's boosted her magical power slightly and her mental discipline significantly. Harry and Neville are still (and will remain) the most magically powerful of the group, but Neville hasn't had the happiest of childhoods, and especially lacks in the spectacularly happy moments that a Patronus requires. Ginny is among the weakest magically (though already at least close to passing Iruka) because of her young age, and has the least training, while Hermione has a lot of trouble letting go and losing herself in emotion. Harry's memories aren't as happy as Luna's, but he's compensating with raw power and natural aptitude.**

 **The slightly-exploded student is an OC, though I did steal his name from a work I have previously referenced. I'd have named him after Pronto (who's closer in personality), but frankly that name doesn't fit the setting nearly as well.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Ibiki's Apprentice" by May Wren - a one-shot in which Konoha's top prankster ends up under the tutelage of their master of head games.**

 **Posted 27 January 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 70**


	51. 3-8: Bugged

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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In a surprising twist, the Ministry's investigation into Sirius Black's wrongful imprisonment had already begun to bear fruit a bare nine weeks after it was announced. According to both official and unofficial channels, the DMLE had now focused almost exclusively on Bartemius Crouch as the responsible party (though several lower-ranking clerical and bureaucratic personnel had been dismissed for their lesser roles in the matter). Crouch was fighting the accusations with everything he had; his family was one of the so-called 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', the families considered most 'pure' by those that put stock in such nonsense, which gave him a surprising amount of clout in certain circles. It also helped him that he'd spent his entire career being extremely by-the-book, and was known as a staunch perfectionist, making the accusation that he'd so flagrantly broken the laws he supposedly championed a bit less convincing. On top of that, his aggressive and unflinching opposition to the Death Eaters had won him both plaudits and supporters, most of which he retained even after his son's arrest as a Death Eater because he'd sent even his own offspring to Azkaban with neither favoritism nor mercy.

All of this meant that further progress was slowing down, but Amelia Bones was nothing if not thorough. There were some factors working in her favor, at least: First and foremost, the Minister and his administration were fully behind her, meaning that for once she didn't have to worry about interference from above. Crouch's abrasive personality meant that he didn't really have any close friends, which left few people of any influence willing to stick their necks out on his behalf. Strangely enough given how often they opposed virtually anything the DMLE Director wanted, many hardliners on the Dark end of the political spectrum were also against him, mostly for his harsh treatment of the Death Eaters during his own time heading the department, though the fact that he'd shown no mercy to his own flesh and blood also factored in.

Black himself, meanwhile, had continued to correspond with Harry and Remus, recently mentioning that the mysterious Seeker goggles had been from him after he saw Harry struggling against the rain during the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match. His penmanship was showing a steadier hand, and he was very slowly beginning to improve in other areas: It was noticeably less often that the recovering wizard abruptly veered between topics, or went off on an angry or despondent rant about something or someone. After over two months of treatment, there were distinct signs that he was moving towards a healthier, more stable mental state. Unfortunately, he still had a long way to go, and based on what progress he'd made he stated that the Healers were hoping he'd be fit to receive occasional visitors by June, and possibly even make supervised outings by early autumn. Iruka suspected that these were in part targets to give the man goals to aim for in order to motivate him and get him to follow the Healers' instructions. Given Remus's descriptions of a wild and rebellious twenty-year-old coupled with the effects of imprisonment and Dementor exposure, Black was most likely a bit of a problem patient.

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It was the last Saturday in February, and S.E.N. were stretching before their warm-up calisthenics for that day's training session when Iruka saw something amiss. Most people wouldn't think much of the beetle crawling out under the door of the girls' locker room, even in the midst of a Scottish winter; most people hadn't dealt with the Aburame and Yamanaka clans, hadn't been trained to treat every strange event as possible enemy action.

Turning partly away from the entrance and pulling a roll of bandages from one of his equipment pouches, the chuunin drew his wand and attempted a bit of free transfiguration. It took a bit of effort, but he soon had a crude metal box (he was aiming for steel, though he wasn't certain how well he'd succeeded on that front) just small enough to fit in his palm, with walls and a lid all around half a centimeter thick. "You know," he commented blandly to his somewhat confused students, "I think I may have forgotten my notes for today. Would you mind warming up by yourselves while I go check?"

He palmed the box's lid in one hand and the box itself in the other and kept his posture casual as he turned towards the door. As he walked, he began concentrating chakra to his limbs, an expression of good-natured absent-mindedness on his face while keeping the beetle in sight. Once he was in a good position, he struck.

A quick dash had him suddenly right beside the suspicious insect before the bug could react. Mindful of poison (an insect or an insect-like puppet could act as a delivery vehicle for frighteningly lethal venoms) Iruka used the lid to flick the beetle into the box, before slapping the lid home. Drawing his wand again, he applied a simple Sticking Charm to keep the lid in place, before turning to the children. "It's probably nothing, but just to be on the safe side I'd like to have Professor Dumbledore check this for me."

"A beetle?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Harry," Luna piped up, "how many beetles do you usually see around Hogwarts in the dead of winter?" She gave her friend a wry look. "Do we have to check you for Wrackspurts again?"

Harry looked a bit sheepish. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You go ahead, Iruka-sensei. We'll finish our stretches and do the usual laps and stuff. If you're not back by the time we're done with that, we'll... er, should we... what should we do if you're not back by then?"

Iruka smiled. "If I'm gone that long, just work on your meditation exercises. I'll send word if I won't be able to make it back."

Instruction given, he hurried to the Headmaster's office, sending word ahead with Flippy to make sure that said office would be occupied.

"Iruka," Dumbledore greeted seriously, "your missive stated that you'd found something potentially concerning during your training session?"

Iruka nodded. "Yeah. It might be nothing, but it was strange enough that I didn't want to take a chance. I'd have handled it myself if I knew the right spells, but as it stands I'll need you to check for me. Basically, what I've got here," he gestured with the box, "is a beetle that really shouldn't be active at this time of year. I don't know if maybe it's just been keeping warm in the castle, though it'd be the first time I'd seen a beetle like this during the winter. What worries me is that it might be bespelled in some way, or be a magical creature, or even something else. I just don't know enough about magic to know if or how it could be dangerous beyond having some kind of poison."

"Very well," Albus mused, drawing his wand, "please, set the box on the floor and stand clear, and we shall see what is truly happening." As the chuunin did so, the elder wizard stepped around his desk, casting a number of spells over the area. "There, that should be adequate." A flick of his wand caused the box to jerk upwards slightly, before he narrowed his eyes and simply Vanished the entire box. The beetle immediately tried to fly towards the door, but a spell cast with far greater speed and precision than Iruka could confidently match had it frozen in place. The Headmaster's wand seemed to dance, as a series of diagnostic spells washed over the insect to no visible effect.

"You will be relieved to know that I can detect no poisons, potions, curses, nor other hazards. This does simply appear to be an ordinary beetle, which begs the question of how and why it snuck into your training room." The Headmaster paused in thought, before casting a spell Iruka recognized from several weeks prior and getting a similar result to the last casting he'd seen. "The answer appears to be that this beetle is a witch or wizard. Your caution, it would seem, was well-warranted. Now, let us see precisely who has been snooping about..."

A further spell had the beetle growing rapidly, its shape becoming that of an adult witch. She appeared to be close to Iruka's age, with somewhat masculine features that contrasted sharply with her rhinestone-studded spectacles and long, red-painted fingernails. Her blonde hair was done up in elaborate curls that seemed oddly stiff, and she was carrying a handbag made from some kind of reptile leather. As the transformation ended and the spell released its hold, the woman slumped to the floor, her brightly-colored robes looking somewhat rumpled.

"Ah, Rita," Albus said congenially, "this certainly explains your remarkable ability to ferret out secrets." Rita _Skeeter_ , apparently. "Your consistently outstanding marks in Transfiguration were clearly well-deserved, and I must congratulate you on completing such a tricky bit of magic. Given that it's one of my particular areas of expertise, I of course keep an eye out for Transfiguration-related events, but I'm afraid I must have missed the news of your registering as an Animagus."

Skeeter stood up a bit shakily, brushing dust off her robes while trying to straighten them out somewhat. A saccharine, almost patronizing smile appeared on her face, as she looked at the older wizard. "Why thank you, Headmaster," she said brightly, before her eyes took on a more predatory glint, "but what _have_ you been doing with Professor Umino here that he's able to Apparate within the Hogwarts wards? Or was that strange training room free of the interdiction ward, to allow the teaching of Apparition to underage students? What _other_ dangerous and illegal things are you allowing him to teach the Boy-Who-Lived and other young children?"

Her morals were clearly less than iron-clad, but Iruka had to admit that the woman was incredibly brazen to take such an approach after she'd been caught out. Then again, it might just have been that she was completely shameless. Probably a bit of both, really.

Albus's demeanor saddened, and he gave the trespasser a disappointed look. "Really, Ms. Skeeter, I don't believe that you quite understand the situation in which you presently find yourself. A mere few weeks after a truly detestable and incredibly dangerous criminal was apprehended while using his unregistered Animagus form to hide among children, you yourself have been caught doing the same. I hardly think your rivals would ignore such an easy and sensational parallel. While would be entirely unsurprised if you had sufficient... _influence_ over important individuals to escape serious legal ramifications," it may have been pronounced 'influence' but it somehow sounded more like 'blackmail', "the revelation of your form would undoubtedly still eliminate numerous opportunities by which you might otherwise have gathered information for your work. In fact, I dare say that it would swiftly become quite hazardous to be an insect in many parts of Wizarding Britain."

The witch tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That _would_ be inconvenient, yes. Of course, the fact that you've not already called in the Aurors to drag me away suggests that you've got an alternative in mind."

The Headmaster nodded. "I shan't demand anything so unreasonable as that you abandon your career and livelihood. Rather, I ask only that you improve the quality of your work: Look for what is true, rather than simply what is most scandalous; there are enough scandalous and sensational stories in reality that you hardly need to rely so heavily upon innuendo and insinuation. Imagine, perhaps, that you are composing your stories as essays for Professor Slughorn, and make sure of your facts before you write. You have a remarkable talent for capturing and swaying the hearts of your readers, Ms. Skeeter, and it is at present sadly wasted on rumor and speculation. I would also, by the way, prefer that you refrain from snooping about the school, at least while pupils are present."

"Ever the teacher, eh Dumbledore?" Skeeter's smile turned wry. "I suppose I don't have much choice but to shackle my creativity," she sighed melodramatically, "and write only the dry facts."

Albus chuckled slightly. "Indeed. Perhaps you could exercise your creative side in the realm of fiction? A thrilling adventure, a gripping drama, a steamy romance - whatever your muse provides, I have no doubt of your ability to succeed as an author. Also, so that you do not leave with the impression that this is a purely punitive arrangement... should your work in the Prophet rise to a suitably factual standard, you may begin to receive anonymous tips regarding stories of potential interest, or even statements or offers of interviews from notable parties. As an example, purely hypothetical you understand, you might hear that the Board of Governors has for a great many years refused to fund the replacement of the school brooms. This would seem innocuous enough, until some investigation revealed that the current brooms, upon which our First-Years have their flying lessons, are so old and worn as to be downright unsafe. Why, it might even turn out that malfunctions of these brooms have _already_ led to a number of injuries among the student body. But of course, that's just a possibility."

"Of course." The predatory gleam had returned, and Iruka could see the reporter's mind already beginning to spin a tale of tight-fisted Governors and maimed eleven-year-olds. "I must say, Headmaster, that this has been a most... _enlightening_ discussion, but I'm afraid I have a deadline to meet and a great deal of work to do, so I must be going. Could I trouble you for use of your Floo?"

Once the blond muckraker had departed in a flash of emerald flames (great, now she had _him_ thinking in florid prose...), Iruka stepped away from the wall where he'd done his best to remain uninteresting ever since Skeeter had focused on his employer. Given that he was a virtual nobody dressed in neutral colors and Albus was _Albus Dumbledore_ and dressed in _numerous_ colors, it really didn't take a trained ninja to avoid drawing attention. "Do you think it'll actually work?"

"We can but hope. It _is_ quite likely that Rita knows a great many secrets which powerful people would prefer _remain_ secret, and might well use that leverage along with such favors as she's managed to garner to escape prosecution. However, it is also entirely possible that those same powerful people, along with numerous others that have felt the sting of her poison pen, would do their utmost to see her and her knowledge buried as thoroughly as they could manage. She is certainly perspicacious enough to be aware of this risk, and that combined with the less dire scenario of simply losing her ability to sneak and snoop so successfully should secure her cooperation."

"Even so," the Headmaster continued, "I very much doubt that we will be entirely spared Ms. Skeeter's attentions. She is a scorpion, and it is in her nature to sting. The best we can reasonably expect is that she will take a more honest, factual approach to her writing and leave the children alone. Time, as they say, will tell."

* * *

 **A/N: Iruka transfigured a metal box instead of just grabbing Rita because he didn't know what the beetle was. It could have been venomous, or have some sort of magical defense mechanism he'd never heard of, or even be a small bomb. If he'd had more practice at transfiguration, the box would have probably been more elaborate in order to protect against even more possible dangers, but he's only got a few years' worth of training and experience.**

 **Harry was the only one of the kids that spotted Rita, partly a consequence of all that Seeker training, while Luna as always provides insight.**

 **As far as Dumbledore's deal with Rita goes, that's over ninety years of age difference and decades of political experience that canon Hermione didn't have being put to use. He knew that just telling Skeeter to shut up would be a band-aid at best and more likely would end up backfiring badly as she made an earlier start on The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, only in this case with a major axe to grind. She's still going to be a scandalmonger, and she'll still sometimes target Dumbledore and those around him, but at least her articles will have a bit more of a foundation in truth and a bit less insinuation. Hopefully. Sometimes. Eventually. Maybe.**

 **You might have noted that Rita thought Iruka apparated, rather than simply moving quickly. She has no idea about his abilities, so she interpreted what she saw based on what she knew, i.e. magic. Also, I don't think beetles really have very good eyesight, so I'm not sure she'd have even been** _ **able**_ **to see anything more than Iruka disappearing from one spot and appearing in another. Entomology enthusiasts, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on that.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Buffie the Vampire Layer" by Lady FoxFire - A fun Buffyverse one-shot in which some people in the New Council discover the "adult film" series clearly based on Buffy.**

 **Posted 10 February 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 69/70 (partway through 70 I realized I'd skipped something back in 69)**


	52. 3-9: Dogfather

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The weeks rolled on, and life at Hogwarts managed to remain at its own bizarre version of normal - no possessed teachers, ancient giant killer snakes, or soul-sucking demons. Just hundreds of teens and preteens learning to rewrite the laws of reality with wooden sticks and bad Latin.

By the time May rolled around, every member of S.E.N. had started to show their own strengths and weaknesses to at least some degree, at least from Iruka's training; Filius wasn't at nearly as many meetings, so even with their official Defense classes, their magical combat was still developing. Luna was physically the most flexible, had exceptional chakra control, was just ahead of Hermione as the best at first-aid, and showed intermittent bouts of truly remarkable situational awareness (though she still tended to get distracted or lost in thought). Harry's speed and agility were clearly the best of the group, though Ginny was managing a solid second place, and likewise his skill at taijutsu. Neville was easily the most physically powerful, and his once-poor stamina had recently surpassed even Harry's, though he remained the slowest member. Hermione's chakra control was quite good, as were her mental discipline and fuuinjutsu, but her chakra capacity was a bit low and her taijutsu more average. Ginny's late start meant that she was playing catch-up, leaving her chakra capacity and control at the back of the pack, but her active childhood (and dealing with rowdy older brothers) meant that she was already doing well in taijutsu and agility, and she'd shown a definite knack for accurate shurikenjutsu.

On the magical front, Harry and Luna had both managed to conjure a corporeal Patronus, a stag and a dolphin respectively. Now they worked to cast them quickly and reliably and to maintain them for longer, while the other three could manage misty shields that sometimes tried to coalesce into vague shapes.

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After the past two years, it was sadly unsurprising that something happened in mid-June that would guarantee the departure of Hogwarts' Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"It's probably for the best," Remus said resignedly. "We knew it was unlikely that I'd be able to stick around, and I was honestly more than a little worried that circumstances would somehow conspire to have me biting a student at the full moon. There'd have been no recovering from that, even with Sirius freed; I would have been left with the choice of either going on the run or turning myself in for execution. At least this way I'm only losing my job - not an unfamiliar experience - rather than my head, and nobody else is hurt by it."

Albus had predicted that Rita Skeeter would find a way to strike back within the terms of their arrangement, and she'd proven him right. Her article in the Prophet - _WEREWOLF IN HOGWARTS!_ \- was still written for sensationalism, but unlike much of her previous work that Iruka had seen, it was also based solidly in fact and even presented or referenced evidence to back up its claims. While nowhere near the journalistic level of some of the better Muggle papers Iruka had read on occasion, it was at least a modest improvement upon her usual style.

"I'd say the students are hurt by it," Iruka retorted, "unless Albus can pull off the miracle of recruiting two competent Defense teachers in a row. I understand pickings are more than a little slim these days, and you were an exception rather than the rule."

"I'll make sure to leave a set of notes, lesson plans, and recommended textbooks, just in case the next teacher needs or wants a bit of help."

"You're really not going to fight this?"

Remus sighed, his shoulders slumping. "There wouldn't be much point, I'm afraid. Influential as Albus is, even he would be hard-pressed to avoid sacking me, and trying could well see the Board of Governors ousting him as well. Even if he succeeded it would be costly, and with the threat we know is still lurking out there he can ill-afford to spend so much political capital on a risky prospect. By announcing that I'll be leaving at the end of term, I satisfy those who hate and fear werewolves, and by not making Albus choose between shielding and sacking me, I save him from most of the ire from both sides."

"Besides," the werewolf continued, "with Sirius freed, he'll need some help getting back into the swing of things. He also owled me as soon as he heard I was resigning, begging for my help in clearing out his family's old house: The Black family were mostly as dark as their name, or darker, and that much Dark magic in one place over that amount of time has lasting effects. Throw in years of neglect, and it's quite likely that more than a few nasty creatures have shown up and made themselves at home. Fortunately for Padfoot, he happens to know someone that's an expert on dealing with Dark creatures, eh?" This last bit was said with a wry smile that didn't quite manage to reach his eyes.

"Just take care of yourself," Iruka said firmly, "and try and keep Black out of too much trouble. Harry's finally gotten some strong links to his parents, and I don't want either of you disappearing on him."

"I'll try my best, though keeping Sirius out of trouble is likely to be about as manageable as doing the same for Harry." Remus gave Iruka a dry look for a moment before relenting. "Truly, though, I'm coming out of this reasonably well. Teacher's pay isn't a lot, as you know, but it's been more and for longer than I can usually manage, and I've not had to buy food for over nine months; I've been able to put aside a fair amount of money that should last me quite a while even if I don't find much work. Sirius will probably insist on trying to pay me for helping him, and while I _think_ I've closed off all the loopholes that he and James used to use to sneak me payment for things in the past it wouldn't surprise me if he figures out some new trick."

"Oh!" The departing Defense Professor snapped his fingers. "I've just remembered, Sirius also said that once the house is cleared, we should be able to look through the Black family library. With a bit of luck, we'll manage to find enough of the missing spells to be able to at least partially recreate the Marauder's Map. We don't have James to handle his part, but we _are_ both fully-qualified wizards instead of schoolboys, and with Filius and Albus lending their own talents there's a good chance we'll be able to make something usable."

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On the revelations in the Prophet, opinions among the student body varied widely: The largest and most vocal group was, unfortunately, those that were heavily prejudiced against werewolves. Defense classes which had previously had an air of fun were now fraught with tension, as once-eager students now sat as far from their Professor as they could manage while still attending class. More problematically, in some cases bigotry overrode fear, leaving students unwilling to recognize Remus's authority. While the quiet man refused to react to their open disrespect, Iruka had no such qualms and every house saw a sudden drop in their House Points, Slytherin unsurprisingly suffering the most thanks in part to a certain thick-headed blonde and his entourage. The worst offenders even had to attend detentions when they really needed the time for last-minute revision for their exams. Several other faculty members, including three of the four Heads of House, soon followed Iruka's example and cracked down on those students unwilling to respect their teacher.

At the opposite end of the spectrum were students that couldn't care less about the Defense Professor's lycanthropy. Some, such as S.E.N. and a fair number of Hufflepuffs, saw the person rather than the disease. Others, mostly Ravenclaws and Fifth- and Seventh-years, would have been fine with a dragon for a professor if the class was sufficiently informative and prepared them well for their exams. There were even a group of mostly Muggle-born students that simply didn't see what the big deal was, or even thought werewolves were 'cool'.

In between the two extremes were a range of attitudes, from the nervous and uncertain to the confused to the simply apathetic. While there _was_ a significant amount of support among the students for Remus, it was nowhere near enough to have a chance of saving his job. Whispers could soon be heard wondering who the next Defense Professor would be, and what would in turn drive _them_ from the castle. Rumors ran from Sirius Black (chased out by an escaped Dementor) to Sybil Trelawney (scared away by something in her tea leaves) to Merlin himself (crumbling to dust after abruptly remembering he's supposed to be dead). The Weasley Twins had already started taking bets.

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Thankfully the only notable event during the remainder of term was exams, before the students once more left for home on board the Hogwarts Express. A few days later, Iruka found himself back at St. Mungo's, this time accompanying Harry and the Grangers towards Sirius Black's room.

Iruka could only imagine the riot of thoughts and emotions that were probably bouncing around his student's head right now, though anxiety was obviously at the forefront. Between that, anticipation, and a sort of tentative hope, Harry was filled with enough nervous energy to power a small town. He was finally about to meet the man he'd been corresponding with for months, his father's best friend, the man that had he not been wrongfully imprisoned would have been the one to raise Harry; he seemed unable to decide whether he was eager to rush forward or to call the whole meeting off.

The Grangers were there at both parties' requests, Harry wanting the support and Black wanting to meet the people caring for his godson, while Iruka's presence was mostly Harry's idea. It was indescribably gratifying that a student held him in such high regard.

Harry's hand paused just as he was about to knock on the room's door. "Just remember," Wendell said reassuringly, "he's as afraid of you as you are of him." Iruka had to assume that this was some sort of reference he was missing, as the other four shared a round of giggles that broke the tension quite effectively. After his knock was answered by a "Come in!" from inside the room, Harry opened the door and led his party in.

Sirius Black was certainly looking much better than the last time Iruka had seen him (not a difficult feat, admittedly): His wild, matted hair had been tamed into a shoulder-length mane that straddled the border between wavy and curly, and like virtually everything else in the hospital he was thoroughly clean. His beard had been likewise washed and groomed. Features that had previously been gaunt and bordering on skeletal had filled in significantly, though Black's frame remained quite thin; rebuilding muscle mass was one of the more long-term aspects of the healing. Where before his complexion had been deathly pale and his skin badly weatherbeaten, it was now a much healthier shade, though like the familiar werewolf standing beside him he looked prematurely aged by at least a decade. His expression largely mirrored that of his godson, showing a maelstrom of different emotions fighting for control, though there was also a brief flash of a somewhat manic glint in his eyes.

"Harry?" His voice was soft, hesitant, before his face broke in to a broad grin and he opened his arms wide, shouting "Harry!" The young teen flinched slightly, and Remus put a calming hand on Black's shoulder. "Sorry about that, pup," the recovering ex-prisoner said in a more subdued tone, "I guess I still need some more work on the whole 'normal interaction' thing, huh?"

Remus snorted. "I've been saying that since First Year, Padfoot. Still, at least you're not licking his face or- I probably shouldn't continue that line of thought with children present..."

At the looks of confusion and worry worn by several of his visitors, Black's grin turned mischievous. Suddenly, where there had been a man in a hospital gown there was instead an enormous black wolfhound seated on the bed, tongue lolling out and head tilted playfully to one side. After a couple of happy barks, he shifted back.

"There are _so_ many puns," Wendell muttered, prompting an eye-roll from his wife.

"He's made them all," Remus responded, completely deadpan. " _Frequently_."

Black gave his friend a put-upon look before turning back to his other visitors. "Now that the peanut gallery's had their say, allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Sirius Black, Padfoot of the Marauders, and dogfather to Harry here. This, for those that haven't met him, is Moony, also known as Remus Lupin, one of my first and closest friends."

"Wendell Granger, my wife Monica, and our daughter Hermione."

"And I'm Umino Iruka - I mentioned in our letters about name order in my country? - a pleasure to meet you properly."

Their 'host' nodded to each person in turn with a friendly smile, before his expression became more serious, "First off, I wanted to personally thank you, Professor Umino, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, for all you've done for my godson. Also, you don't have to worry about me trying to take custody of Harry: Even if I was fit to care for a child, and had a decent place to live ready, you've still got a better track record than me when it comes to doing what's right by him. That night, instead of taking care of my orphaned godson like I should have, I went off half-cast on a mad quest for revenge; it cost me dearly, and worse it cost Harry."

"What I _will_ do," he continued, "is make sure you're all covered legally and financially as best I can. I understand you're not exactly hurting for money, but it seems I've inherited a fair amount from my family." Black grinned darkly. "Given how much my mad harpy of a mother and the rest hated Muggles and Muggle-born, I can't think of any better use for their gold than paying for the Hogwarts supplies of a Muggle-born student."

Both Granger parents looked distinctly uncomfortable, though Hermione's mind was clearly lost in an imagined shopping spree at Flourish and Blotts. "That's, well," Wendell said, "as amusing as that thought is, you really don't need to do that. Harry's no trouble at all, he's been wonderful to have around, and you're welcome to visit once you're well enough."

"I'm sure you don't need it," the wizard replied, "but I need to do something, for my own peace of mind if nothing else. I failed in my responsibilities," his expression swung back to morose, "and it cost Harry so much, so much..." he trailed off into silence for a moment before shaking himself like a wet dog and regathering his thoughts. "Obviously, I can't undo what's been done, but what I _can_ do is everything possible to make sure my godson has a bright future and thank you lot for taking care of him. To that end," he said with a mischievous smile as he reached over to a nightstand, retrieving a bulging envelope, "I have here tickets for the four of you, the Professor, and Moony here for box seats at the Quidditch World Cup final match. It's going to be right here in England this year - quite the opportunity, eh? I wish I could go with you all, but the Healers say I'll be stuck here for another few months at least, so you'll just have to tell me all about it, right Harry?" The teen in question nodded eagerly with a broad grin on his face.

"With all that serious bol- er, stuff out of the way," Black hastily changed his chosen phrasing at a combined glare from Remus and Hermione, "we can talk about fun things! I've been saving this little story to tell you in person, since a letter just wouldn't do it justice. It was back in Fourth Year - Moony wasn't there, it was just James and me - and James had just come up with another of his little plans to ask Lily out..."

Soon enough even the straight-laced Hermione was holding her sides with laughter. "So there we are, striped magenta and teal from head to toe and wearing bikinis, and Lily just gets up in our faces and says, 'And if I ever catch you degenerates trying to sneak into the girls' dorms again, I'm going to get _creative_.' It took Madam Pomfrey three hours to fix us up, and we never did figure out how Lily turned that prank around on us. Your mum was a terrifying witch, Harry - utterly brilliant and an amazing person, but still terrifying. Now, let's hear about some of the trouble you've gotten into, the good stuff you wouldn't put into your letters."

The two teens looked at each other in thought, shooting glances at their parents and Iruka. They'd all agreed before coming that until Black was in a stable mental state, they couldn't risk sharing the truth about S.E.N. with him. Still, that didn't eliminate _all_ of their stories. "Well," Harry finally replied, "I guess I haven't told you exactly _how_ I ended up on the Gryffindor Quidditch team..."

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 **A/N: Yes, Luna's Patronus is different from canon. Having someone show up at the worst moment of your life thus far and save your mother's life is the kind of thing that affects a person, I'd say.**

 **Leave a review with your own suggested rumors for who might end up teaching Defense and why they'd leave - I'll try and collect them to post in an A/N or Omake.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Force Interrupt" by Right What Is Wrong - a bunch of mostly-disconnected one-shots of Potterverse characters applying logic and/or having it applied to them.  
**

 **Posted 24 February 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 71**


	53. 4-1: Roughing It

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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 **Book 4: Umino Iruka and the Foreign Friends**

In late August, Hedwig brought Iruka a letter from Harry. This was not unusual. The contents of this letter, on the other hand...

 _Iruka-sensei,_

 _I just had a really weird dream, then woke up with my scar hurting. Since the dream was about Voldemort, I'm kind of worried it might be true, or some sort of hint that he's up to something. I can't remember everything that happened in the dream, but I'm putting everything I can here._

 _It was in some big, old house, that looked like it belonged to someone really rich but they hadn't kept it up. An old man heard voices when there was supposed to be nobody there, and he followed them to a room where Voldemort was talking to somebody. I don't know who he was talking to, and I think the old man was a Muggle because he didn't pull out his wand and seemed confused about the stuff he was hearing. They talked about murdering someone, a woman I think, about getting at me somehow, and about wizards coming from all over the world, then a huge snake went by and told Voldemort about the old man listening. The other man in the room opened the door, the old man went inside, the other man turned around the chair Voldemort was sitting in and whatever he looked like, it scared the old man horribly, then there was a flash of green light and the old man died, and I woke up with my scar burning._

 _Could you ask Professor Dumbledore about this for me? It might be nothing, but after what happened last time my scar started hurting I don't want to take chances._

 _See you at the World Cup,_

 _Harry_

"'It might be nothing' he says," Iruka shook his head, "about as much chance of that as of Naruto swearing off ramen."

Minutes later he sat in the Headmaster's office, while the man himself read through Harry's letter.

"This is most disturbing," Albus said gravely, "and you and Harry were quite right to bring the matter to my attention. I am reasonably certain that this dream was at least representative of actual events; it would seem that dark plots are afoot once more."

"It's not a lot to go on," Iruka commented. "Would your Pensieve allow us to pick up more details, possibly?"

The whiskered wizard shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Even with my long practice of Occlumency, I would have difficulty gathering a usable memory of a dream I recalled clearly. The ephemeral nature of dreams, coupled with how vague Harry's recollection already is, would make transferring it into a Pensieve quite impossible."

"So it's basically like two years ago," the chuunin stated, "with a vague warning of impending danger but nothing particularly actionable. We know that Voldemort has some kind of solid form again, another possession maybe, and that he's got a large snake with him and is being helped by another wizard. Am I missing anything?"

"They are targeting Harry again, from what he recalls of the conversation he overheard."

Iruka gave his boss a dry look. "That's hardly new."

Albus chuckled sadly. "Unfortunate, but true nonetheless. There is, however, one bit of information that is immediately actionable. I shall, immediately after this meeting, send Mr. Potter a message advising him to clear his mind and do his best to shore up such Occlumency defenses as he has developed each night before bed. With luck, that should enable him to block out such visions in the future, at least in part."

"While I'm all for reducing the number of bad dreams my students have, wouldn't that also mean missing out on potentially valuable intelligence?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "It might, possibly, but that presumes that the connection between the two wizards can only manifest itself as we have seen thus far. After all, if Harry can dream of events surrounding Voldemort, could not the reverse occur as well? Worse, Tom is a master of the Mind Arts, and it is not inconceivable that he might be able to discover the connection and exploit it, either by falsifying future visions, stealing information from Harry's memory, or even directly invading Harry's mind either to observe or to control. As much as I would desperately wish for more information, I fear that the risks in this case outweigh the potential rewards."

"Make sure you mention that to Harry in your letter," Iruka replied, "or at least that Voldemort could send false visions or snoop on Harry. Knowing Harry, if he heard that connection might be used to control his actions, he'd try to distance himself from his friends to keep them safe." He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "There's more you're not telling me."

Albus nodded somberly. "Severus has already informed me that his Dark Mark has begun to darken of late, becoming bolder and more visible. After Voldemort's defeat, it had faded to near-invisibility, but its gradual return suggests that its creator is regaining some measure of his former strength."

"That is... not good," the chuunin sighed. "I hate knowing an enemy's in motion without having any real clues about what they're up to. All we can really do is watch and prepare as best we can."

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Bright and early in the morning the day before the World Cup, Iruka Apparated over to Remus's cottage in Yorkshire. It was a small place, very isolated, and as with virtually everything else to do with the werewolf it looked like it had seen much better days: The faded paint was peeling in places, the roof mostly a patchwork of inexpert repairs, and the whole building seemed to be sagging and leaning. While magic meant it was probably more structurally sound than it looked, it was still probably barely fit for human habitation.

The former Defense Professor answered the door quickly; he looked a bit haggard, probably due to the early hour or to the full moon in a few days. Like Iruka, Remus was dressed in comfortable Muggle clothing. "Ah, Iruka, good morning. Come in, please. Would you like some tea before we head out?"

"No thank you, Remus - I'd rather not risk missing the Portkey." He also didn't want to use up some of what was probably a carefully-husbanded supply, given the werewolf's limited means. The cottage's interior was little better than outside, looking somewhat like Iruka thought the Burrow would if the Weasleys fell on hard times: What sparse furniture was present was battered and worn, the sink full of an assortment of chipped and mismatched dishware, and the cracked and warped wooden floors bare of any carpeting. A few items of better quality or in better condition stood out, though, like the small collection of books on a rickety shelf. Some pieces, like a stout kettle and cast-iron skillet by the stove, were of a more robust and utilitarian construction, while a set of framed photos added some much-needed color to the room.

"Be it ever so humble," Remus commented sardonically, noting Iruka's perusal. "I'll be ready to go in just a moment." A couple of quick summoning charms later and he was packing the last few things into a rucksack. That done, the two men stepped back out, Remus locking the door behind them.

Chatting companionably, they headed off for the location of the nearest Ministry Portkey. Despite the fairly brisk pace the two set, the remoteness of Remus's cottage meant that it was nearly an hour's walk before they reached the spot where several other witches and wizards were already starting to gather. All had at least attempted to dress Muggle, though to highly variable degrees of success. Both newcomers had to suppress their laughter at the middle-aged wizard wearing a plaid blazer over a tank-top paired with a lacy pink knee-length skirt and golf shoes.

Some of those assembled around an empty lager bottle seemed to recognize Remus, or at least that he was a werewolf: An elderly couple looked sadly at him with a mix of sympathy and pity, while a younger couple moved their two pre-Hogwarts-age children behind them, gazing at him in fear. One wizard dressed in a high-quality tuxedo of fairly archaic style simply glared at the ex-Professor with undisguised hatred.

All these looks Remus bore with the resignation of long experience and a wan smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was so much like a young Naruto that to see it on a man closer to Naruto's current age was heartbreaking, but Iruka knew there wasn't much he could do about it.

Of course 'not much' isn't the same as 'nothing' and so the chuunin turned to his friend and spoke: "Oh, I've been meaning to ask, have you been able to come up with any more advice on casting the Patronus Charm? You keep saying not to be discouraged, that it's a hard piece of magic and many adult witches and wizards can't manage it, but given the fact that you got _thirteen-year-olds_ casting it, well... I know a teacher's greatest pride is to be surpassed by their students, but it's still embarrassing to have teenagers outperforming me in magic."

"At this point, all you can really do is keep practicing," Remus replied, his eyes gaining a prankster's twinkle, "and we both know those kids are an exceptional group. Still, next time we're somewhere Muggles can't find we can go over your casting with a fine-toothed comb, maybe see if your wand movements could be refined further and make sure you're timing the incantation right."

The startled expressions on those people previously looking at Remus were immensely gratifying, as was the fact that four of the five shifted a bit towards thoughtful or respectful. Of course the hateful glare just came back fiercer than before, but some people are never happy.

As the time for their Portkey approached, everyone gathered into a tight knot, making sure they each were at least touching the bottle that would be serving as their Portkey. Remus had previously explained that all of the Portkeys used would be made from random pieces of garbage in order to avoid having some random Muggle walk off with them. For his part Iruka thought it was a bit strange, especially since it was entirely possible that a well-meaning passerby would pick up what they'd see as a piece of litter. Then again, both wizards and bureaucrats tended to be fairly weak in the logic department, so one couldn't really expect much from a combination of the two. Regardless, when the time came Iruka felt the characteristic yank-and-spin before landing easily at their destination.

"Nine o'clock from Shepherd's Brook?" asked a wizard wearing a T-shirt-and-waistcoat combination with blue jeans and loafers, "Let's have that Portkey, then. Come along, now, we've another group arriving from Donegal in a few minutes." The Ministry wizard soon directed each party towards their respective camping areas, and around a half mile's walk later Remus was handing money to Mr. Payne, the site manager.

Once they reached their assigned space in the currently half-empty field, Iruka pulled the tent off his backpack and the two men began to set it up by hand. Ordinarily he'd have kept it in a storage scroll, but given the Muggle nature of the campground open displays of magic were very much a no-no. The tent was borrowed from the Lovegoods, and simple enough to put up in a couple of minutes; alone it would have been annoying, but with two pairs of hands it was a breeze.

Walking inside, Iruka had to marvel once again at the wonders of magic. On the outside, it might have looked like an ordinary canvas cabin tent large enough for two or three people, inside it was practically a two-bedroom house complete with a compact but functional kitchen and, miraculous even for someone well-trained and experienced in 'roughing it', indoor plumbing. If reliable travel could ever be established between Britain and the Elemental Nations, most shinobi would kill (many of them literally) for tents like this.

"It'll still be a bit tight," Remus commented, "and we might end up setting a cot or two out in the kitchen, but it's only a couple of nights."

"Remus, just being in a tent _at all_ is already well ahead of most of my previous camping experience. By the standards of just about any non-magical, this campout is going to be downright luxurious." The chuunin smiled happily. "Besides, I don't think the kids have camped at all before, so this should just be a fun adventure for them." He deliberately did _not_ comment that it would also hopefully be safer than the 'adventures' Harry and the others had experienced.

Since it would be hours yet before the rest of their party would arrive, both of them busied themselves fetching water and building a campfire. That done, they set up a pair of camp chairs out in front of the tent and spent the time between reading, conversing, and watching with amusement and exasperation the mostly-inept attempts of their fellow witches and wizards to function without using magic for everything. Both had to fight to keep from laughing aloud as one wizard kept trying to use tent stakes like wands.

Around one-thirty that afternoon, Iruka headed over to the campground's car park, wondering how the Ministry was accounting for the near-total absence of parked vehicles given how packed things were rapidly getting. It was closer to two o'clock when the Grangers' car pulled in, swiftly disgorging its four occupants to stand and stretch after a long drive.

"So," the chuunin called as he approached, "how was the trip?"

"Not too bad," Wendell replied, heading for the back of the car to retrieve the family's bags, "a bit of traffic on occasion, but having people to chat with-"

"Or at," Monica interjected to an eye-roll from her husband.

"-makes the whole experience much less boring." He switched to a stage whisper. "Harry even got Hermione to look up from her book and participate!" The girl in question wrinkled her nose in mock indignation.

Iruka chuckled. "Well, I'm sure it's more comfortable than a Portkey, unless you're a big fan of violent spinning. Portkeys are much faster in theory, but you lose a lot of that when you have to walk an hour to get to the nearest one." This led into an explanation of the available methods of magical travel, though the group switched over to talking about more mundane topics when they neared Mr. Payne's cottage.

Remus was still seated outside the tent when they reached it, standing to greet them as they approached. "Harry, Hermione, always a pleasure; Mr. and Mrs. Granger, good to see you again; Professor Umino," he continued in the same tone with a gleam in his eye, "welcome to our camp."

Arrivals both new and old chuckled, though the foursome looked at the tent with some trepidation. Iruka winked at Remus before turning to them. "If you'll follow me, we can drop your things off and get you all situated. We still need to work out who's sleeping where at some point too, preferably before bedtime tonight." He and Remus both quickly slipped into the tent, stepping away from the entrance once inside to watch as the others entered. Remus even had the presence of mind to grab a wizarding camera that Sirius had paid for in order to see at least parts of his godson's trip to the World Cup.

The reactions didn't disappoint. Hermione was the first through the flap, and made it about two steps in before she registered what she was seeing and her brain shut down. Harry was next, and was so distracted that his usual agility failed him: He walked into the still-gawping Hermione, sending both to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Into this scene walked Hermione's parents, whose expressions kept swinging from awe at the tent's interior to amusement (Monica) or amused dismay (Wendell). It was at this point that the *click-POOF* of the camera was heard, a small cloud of purple smoke rolling up towards the canvas ceiling.

Once the two teachers had finished laughing at their students' expense, they moved forward to help the two up and apart, though the blushes on both teens' faces did nothing to dampen their amusement.

"Bloody Hell," Wendell muttered, gazing around, "if wizards can expand a little tent this much, why don't they all live in palaces?"

"A few different reasons," commented Remus, slipping easily into 'Professor-Mode', "starting with power requirements. Expanding a larger space takes more power, as does a greater degree of expansion. The less power required and the more power applied, the longer the expansion lasts - I could manage an expansion on this level for a few days at a time, but it would leave me quite tired. Softer materials like cloth are also easier to expand than more rigid ones like wood or stone - in essence, it's easier for the magic to 'stretch' them. I doubt many would be that keen to build their family homes out of canvas. I also wouldn't want to be inside an expanded room when its expansion charms suddenly failed. The only area I know of in Britain that's been expanded large-scale and long-term is Diagon Alley and its associated side-streets: Originally, they were actually just a handful of alleys, before a few witches and wizards set up stalls or carts to sell their wares. At some point, they wanted a bit more room and started enlarging the space available, then more people came, and it grew from there. Centuries of repeated castings of various expansion charms have effectively 'pre-stretched' them enough that they mostly hold their size and shape without needing the magics refreshed."

"Mostly?" queried Hermione.

"On occasion you'll find that the layout of the Alley seems to have shifted suddenly - this is usually because of either an old expansion fading, a new one being cast, or a faded one being re-cast. Also, every few years or so you'll hear about some building or another collapsing because the owner hadn't bothered keeping up its expansion spells, though that happens more often in Knockturn Alley and other areas where building change hands frequently or landlords tend to be lax about maintenance."

"But if repeated castings last longer," pressed Wendell, "why wouldn't those old families that have lived in one place for centuries have expanded homes?"

"Again, a mix of reasons," Remus replied, "starting with the difficulty and safety issues already mentioned. Expanding even a single room in a brick or stone house would take a great deal of effort and likely only last a few hours at first, which would be a _lot_ of work to maintain. Why bother spending literally generations repeatedly expanding the same rooms when you could spend a few days or weeks adding onto the building the conventional way? Beyond that, many of the older families either wouldn't need nor want a huge mansion, and of those that do the ones with money prefer homes that look impressive on the outside as well as the inside."

Harry gave a cough at this point that sounded suspiciously like "Malfoy".

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Between trips for water and other necessities and a general exploration of the increasingly-full campgrounds, Harry and Hermione discovered some familiar faces. The Diggory family, neighbors to the Lovegoods and Weasleys and whose son was the current Hufflepuff Seeker, had set their tent up less than twenty meters away. This of course led to Harry and Cedric discussing Quidditch at length, to Hermione's obvious (and amusing) frustration.

Speaking of the Weasleys, they too were present, if a bit more of a walk to reach. Apparently Arthur had done some kind of favor for the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, who had thanked him with tickets for the top box. The tent borrowed by the ginger patriarch was oddly decorated, some sort of knit covers on much of the furniture, with a pervasive smell of cats. Six of the seven Weasley children were as excited as Harry for the once-in-a-lifetime show; Percy seemed more enthused about the chance to rub elbows with top Ministry officials. Regardless, Wendell ended up having to patiently try to explain several basic Muggle concepts to an enthusiastic Arthur Weasley while the kids discussed their summers and all present speculated on the coming game.

Other than visiting, much of the group's time was spent on the aforementioned explorations of the campgrounds. Hermione and Harry both marveled at the variety of foreign magicals, and all six enjoyed the numerous and often garish decorations. More than one particularly outlandish tent or other setup had them shaking their heads, wondering if some people just hadn't gotten the message that this was a Muggle area and overt displays of magic were forbidden. Regardless, amusement was had, souvenirs were bought (including Omnioculars, magical binoculars with a variety of useful features such as record/replay and slow-motion), and large amounts of unhealthy food were consumed from stalls scattered amongst the tents. The trip had already been a lot of fun, and the main event was yet to come...

* * *

 **Omake! More "Next year's Defense Professor" rumor**

From: Kairan1979  
Teacher: Bellatrix Lestrange, under an Unbreakable Vow not to hurt anybody  
Reason for Leaving: Asking to be returned to Azkaban because she prefers the Dementors as company

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, Harry remembered more than in canon. His Occlumency didn't keep the dream/vision out (in part because he didn't know to shield against it), but it did let him retain more than he otherwise would have. Also, he's completely leaving out that Hermione badgered him into writing the letter after noticing he was acting odd and dragged the story out of him. He didn't want to bring it up and worry people - he's not** _ **that**_ **different from canon.**

 **I was originally going to have Iruka find out about Horcuxes and Harry's scar here, but realized that there's no way Dumbledore would part with such information so easily. It'll happen eventually, but only when the old control freak is really pushed.**

 **There was no way for me to put this in the chapter proper (at least not without a bit of random and out-of-character dialogue) but most of the more expensive items Remus owns are gifts from James, Lily, Sirius, and others. The cast-iron skillet and a few other practical things are from Lily, knowing that she could spend more to get something that'd work well and last a long time without it** _ **looking**_ **so expensive that Remus would baulk. I also figure she'd be one of the more practically-minded of the group.**

 **I've got to say that I feel fairly proud of the segment surrounding Harry and the Grangers' arrival at the campground. It was totally unplanned (and originally would have been just a couple of paragraphs saying that they'd arrived and settled in) but when I saw what the characters were doing I just had to record it.**

 **Before those of you that are especially observant note that the covers in Perkins' tent were** _ **crocheted**_ **rather than** _ **knitted**_ **, I know that. Iruka doesn't.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Time Braid" by ShaperV - Sakura dies in the Forest of Death, only to wake up the morning of the Chuunin Exams. She dies again, and again resets to that morning. Many, _many_ cycles follow. Borrows a bit from Oh My Goddess. Not for Sasuke fans.**

 **Posted 10 March 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 71**


	54. 4-2: Rough Play

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The stadium for the World Cup was, simply put, spectacular. It was staggering to realize that here, in one place, were gathered enough magic-users to outnumber the entire Alliance Army from the Fourth War. Beyond that, this was just a fraction of the millions that existed worldwide. Even just the hidden magical portion of this world's population was comparable to the total population known in Iruka's home world; the prospect of a total population in the _billions_ was still hard to truly wrap his mind around.

Other than the sheer scale of the stadium, there wasn't much novel to Iruka's experiences in the last few years. The long trek up the stairs to their box had left the other adults winded and the teens thankful for all the physical training they'd been doing in S.E.N., but the unobstructed high vantage point was likely to be very worth it come game time.

The Bulgarian team's mascots took the field, and Iruka felt a slight nosebleed start. They were a group of some of the most spectacularly beautiful women he had ever seen: Their long hair flowed behind them, unblemished skin almost luminous, every feature and proportion of their faces and bodies perfect. Then music began to play, and they started to _dance_...

" **Kai**!" Feeling something starting to affect his mind, the chuunin's automatic response was a genjutsu-release. Unlike the other times he'd tried such in this universe, it worked perfectly. Whatever effect these beings produced, it was either a genjutsu or so similar as made no difference. Looking around, he saw Hermione performing a release on Harry, whose eyes had gone somewhat glassy staring at the women on the field.

As her fellow teen tried to figure out what had just happened, Hermione turned to her father. Wendell was clearly also enthralled by the display. Monica had turned to him, but rather than outrage or jealousy her expression was predominantly one of concern.

Seeing the Granger party well in hand, Iruka checked on Remus, but the werewolf was clearly quite lucid. That's not to say that he wasn't enjoying the show, but presumably his greater experience with magic and magical creatures and beings was helping him resist the genjutsu.

From there Iruka glanced around at the stands, and saw the widespread effects: Everywhere he looked, boys and men (and some girls and women) were gazing down completely enraptured. Many of those so influenced were behaving oddly, making at least half-hearted attempts to garner the women's attention. Some, like the ones doing clumsy dances of their own, were amusing. Others were worrying; several fights had broken out, and more than one person seemed ready to leap over the railings and onto the pitch.

Whether because they recognized the growing risk to the spectators or because their allotted time was up, the Bulgarian mascots finished their little performance. The previously-enthralled crowd quickly became unsettled, with raucous demands for the show to continue (to the clear irritation of many wives and girlfriends).

"Well _that_ was... unsettling." Wendell Granger looked less than pleased, turning to Remus. "Is mind-influencing magic like that common? I much prefer to remain in control of my own thoughts and actions."

"There are mind-affecting spells, even a Ministry division dedicated to modifying Muggle memories to hide evidence of our world, but for the most part such magics are only used in very limited fashions. Those ladies down there are Veela, and that effect we felt is one of their natural defenses. But perhaps we should discuss it later," he said, pointing up to where the Irish mascots were making their appearance.

The airborne light show that followed was nice, Iruka supposed, but even after only a few years around magic it wasn't really all that impressive. He was even less impressed when the glowing shamrock began raining Galleons down onto the stands; gold coins that size, dropped from a height, would probably leave more than a few people with bruises at least.

"Don't bother gathering them up," commented Remus, "those were leprechauns. Leprechaun gold vanishes after a few hours."

"Tell that to _them_ ," Emma said angrily, waving out towards the stands where numerous fights were breaking out over the apparently-temporary gold. "Honestly, does neither team care about the safety of the spectators?"

"Given how dangerous their sport is," her daughter replied while glaring mildly at Harry, "safety is probably a bit of a foreign concept. I don't know whether it's how quickly magic can heal a lot of injuries or if it's something else, but it seems like a lot of witches and wizards don't really care much for their own well-being, and even less for that of other people."

Iruka could only shrug when the adult Grangers' questioning looks turned his way. "Considering my background, I'm not sure I'm really in a place to comment one way or the other."

With both of the teams' mascots finished their displays, the players themselves flew out over the pitch. Soon enough, the referee kicked open the crate of balls, starting the championship game of the Quidditch World Cup.

What followed was to the games Iruka had seen back at Hogwarts as a deathmatch between jounin was to a match in the Chuunin Exams. The action was more skillful, more precise, more brutal, more tenacious, and so much _faster_ that he had to wonder how civilians could even follow some of the plays. The Irish team's Chasers showed a polished teamwork that was beautiful to watch, something the Bulgarian Beaters began to focus on disrupting.

Suddenly, both Seekers turned into a power-dive, streaking towards the turf as fast as their top-of-the-line brooms could take them. Only Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, was able to pull up in time to avoid crashing, leaving his counterpart stunned on the ground he'd met so violently. "Apparently it's called a 'Wronski Feint'," Harry commented, looking through his Omnioculars, before smirking and adding, "something to remember next time Malfoy starts marking me."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione scolded, "You _can't_ be considering doing something so- so _dangerous_ just to get an edge in Quidditch?! It's just a _game_ for Merlin's sake!"

Harry scoffed. "I don't need an edge against _Malfoy_. I just figured next time he's annoying me during a game, insulting your heritage and my mum's, I should help him get a better understanding of mud - an up-close-and-personal look, a real _taste_ of mud you might say."

"That sounded so much like James _and_ Lily," Remus chuckled. Harry beamed in response.

Play resumed, and the Irish Chasers continued to dominate their opposition. As the Irish lead grew, so too did the desperation of the Bulgarian team, culminating in the game's first called foul as their Keeper violently elbowed an Irish Chaser. This in turn led both to the leprechauns taunting the Bulgarian team and its supporters and to the Veela enthralling the referee.

Once the mustachioed man was broken free of the entrancement, he was less than pleased. From his gestures, it seemed he wanted the Bulgarian mascots off the pitch. This drew the ire of the Beaters for that nation, who argued with him to the point of calling a second foul against their team.

After the _third_ foul by the Bulgarians in a matter of minutes, the leprechauns formed into a rather rude gesture aimed towards the Bulgarian end of the stadium. In response, the Veela seemed to undergo a transformation: Their once-beautiful faces elongated into cruel, scaly bird-like heads as scaly wings grew out from their shoulders, and they threw small handfuls of flame from their hands as they attacked the leprechauns. This in turn drew a horde of Ministry witches and wizards onto the pitch to attempt to quell the violence, but so far they'd only succeeded in adding to the chaos.

As all that went on down on the ground, play continued in the air above. In spite of taking a Bludger to the face, Krum managed to beat the Irish Seeker Lynch to the Snitch. He'd also managed to plough Lynch into the ground again, where he was promptly attacked by a group of angry Veela. This spectacular catch, however, was too little too late, and Ireland won the match without catching the Snitch. Iruka felt that catch was still Krum's best option left at the time, though - the difference in score would have only grown if the game had continued.

"Well, that was certainly spectacular," Wendell commented as they made their way back towards their tent.

"Spectacularly unprofessional, you mean," replied his wife.

"Failure can be just as much of a spectacle as success," he defended mock-haughtily, "why else would people be so fascinated with horrific disasters?"

"It was a mess all around," Iruka agreed. "Both teams' mascots provoked fights among the crowd before the game even began, and their behavior only got worse from there. If somebody acted like that during an event in Konoha, they'd be lucky if they only spent a night or two in a cell. When your work is as dangerous as ours can be, you don't tend to have much patience for people needlessly endangering others."

"We also got to see the usual level of Ministry competence," snarked Harry, prompting a scandalized (and somewhat conflicted) look from Hermione.

Remus shrugged philosophically. "Speaking as someone who has occasionally benefitted from Ministry laxity, it does have its positives. If you want to change it, get involved in the Ministry when you get out of Hogwarts."

"Ugh," Harry looked queasy, " _politics_..."

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As they were leaving the stadium, the group ran into the Weasleys once more. All of the children, even Hermione and Percy, were quickly lost in a spirited discussion of the game. "I don't think any of them are sleeping just yet," Arthur said to Wendell while casting an indulgent smile over his brood, "why don't you all join us back at our tent for a chat over some cocoa?"

Wendell turned to Monica, who responded with a shrug and a faint "Hn" sound. Apparently he, like Sakura, had learned to interpret such vocalizations as he turned back to Arthur. "Sure, better to let them get the excitement out of their systems now than bounce off the walls all night."

Of course, once they got to the tent the adults participated in the conversations just as enthusiastically as the kids. Eventually, though, some of the younger set started to droop, and Wendell and Monica decided it was time for their family to call it a night. Given how raucous the parties outside were, Iruka and Remus decided to go with the Granger four.

As they were making their way back to their own tent, Iruka's danger sense started prickling, and he noticed Harry starting to tense as well. It took the better part of a minute before he was able to pick out what was off: Buried under the noise of loud partying and cheering, but growing closer and more noticeable, were screams of shock and fear.

"Wands out!" he snapped, his own wand already in his hand. Harry and Hermione obeyed instantly, promptly scanning the surrounding area for threats.

Remus hesitated in confusion for a few moments, but then it seemed his werewolf hearing picked up what Iruka's ninja-trained senses had. "Back to the Weasleys?" he suggested. Iruka nodded assent and set Remus leading group back the way they'd come, bringing up the rear himself.

They arrived back at the tent they'd just left as the Weasleys were pouring out. All adult members of the family had their wands out and were rolling up their sleeves. Arthur spotted their recent guests and hailed them. "Remus, Iruka, we're going to help the Ministry. Wendell, Monica, could you two take the kids? Get into the woods and _stick together_. I'll come fetch you when we've sorted this out. " Given the meaningful look he gave the twins, it was clear he wanted them to protect the unarmed Muggles, and the uncharacteristically-serious nods he got in return showed his message was understood.

The noncombatants weren't even out of sight yet when the trouble came into view. Campers were fleeing in terror towards the tree line, while behind them Iruka could make out the lights and sounds of spellfire. Whoever was responsible were apparently in high spirits, hooting and jeering in an ugly contrast to the screams of fear and pain surrounding them. At the center was a tight cluster of figures with their wands pointing up towards a set of four figures, two of which were the size of children. Iruka's anger spiked, before a green flash chilled him to the bone - he didn't know of many spells that color, and those he did know were _not_ good.

Turning to the others, he began barking orders. "Weasleys, each of you pick one of the four victims. When the time comes, summon your person and get them away from this. Side-Along them if you have to. Remus, while they're doing that I need you to try and keep spellfire off them, then follow them out. I'm assuming you've got a spell that creates fireworks or something else bright, loud, and distracting?" The werewolf nodded. "Cast that near that group when you're all ready. I'll do what I can to make it hard for them to stop you all. Give me one minute to get into position, set off the distraction, then summon a couple seconds after." At their answering nods, he slipped into the shadows with a lifetime's worth of practice.

As he moved around to a flanking position, Iruka saw that the four suspended in the air were being forcibly moved around with spells, like puppets. From their clothing, the victims were likely Muggles, probably locals. Their tormentors had covered their heads and faces, hiding their identities. Occasionally, one of them would blast a tent out of their way, regardless of whether or not it was still occupied. While most of those camped in the area were fleeing (or had already), a small trickle of witches and wizards were approaching the masked wizards, pointing up at their victims and laughing. The display of wanton cruelty had Iruka wishing he had time to unseal his full kit - the only weapons he had ready to hand were a few kunai he'd worn as holdouts.

Ministry wizards were starting to arrive as well, but the growing mob was blocking their path. Iruka intended to help them with that, in a way.

Settling into a concealed spot to the side of the marchers' path, the chuunin began gathering as much chakra as he could, knowing he'd need to make his first shot count. When fireworks seemed to erupt around the rioters, he took that as his signal and flashed through hand seals.

 **Suiton: Bakusui Shooha!**

A torrent of water erupted from Iruka's mouth, forming into a violent wave of turbulent water that blindsided the rioting wizards, sweeping them off their feet and battering them against each other and the ground as they were carried off in the tightly-contained flash flood. Those in the group most directly hit probably had at least a few broken bones among them. More supporters, and even a couple of the Ministry workers, were knocked down or at least drenched by the fringes of the jutsu. The four victims dipped momentarily as the spells holding them up were abruptly cut off, but were soon flying towards the Weasleys.

Iruka slipped away into the darkness, sweating and panting hard, his vision graying at the edges. He would have preferred to use a fire jutsu - less exhausting and more likely to incapacitate the targets - but the suspended rescuees and nearby Ministry response made the risk of collateral damage too high. Unfortunately, from the growing number of cracks he was hearing, most of the marchers and their supporters were still functional enough to Disapparate.

Moments later, green light suddenly washed across the fields. Iruka whirled in alarm to see what could only be the Dark Mark hanging over the woods.

The woods where his students and other innocents were hiding.

He paid no heed to the sudden and drastic increase in Disapparitions, pushing his exhausted body in a sprint toward the forested area. As he moved between the trees, he heard over a dozen voices incanting " **Stupefy!** " and saw the woods light up red from the stunners being cast. Figuring this probably indicated where the trouble was centered, he angled towards the lights and shouting.

What he found was a group of Ministry wizards about to revive an unconscious Bartemius Crouch. A petty, vindictive part of Iruka's mind took some satisfaction from seeing the pompous man so badly rumpled after the miscarriage of justice he'd inflicted on Sirius Black.

"Is everyone all right?" the chuunin called to the group, "I saw that Mark, and with all the people running into the woods..."

Many of their eyes widened in realization. Amos Diggory (the only one besides Crouch that Iruka recognized) began barking orders. "Hopewell! Finch! Perry! Grab a partner each and spread out! We need to know if anyone's been hurt, and get them help immediately! The rest of us will stay here, ready to help at need, while we figure out what the bloody hell Barty Crouch of all people was doing under a Dark Mark." The witch and two wizards he'd called on nodded, and soon three pairs were searching out through the woods.

"Some students and friends of mine are in here somewhere," Iruka chimed in, "has anyone seen Arthur Weasley's kids?" He was met with only shaken heads. "Arthur and his older sons are taking care of the people those rioters were tormenting, so I need to find his younger ones and the others with them, make sure they're all right. I'll let you know if I find anyone hurt."

"Thank you, Professor," Amos said, "and could you keep an eye out for Cedric as well? I know he's nearly an adult, but..."

"Of course," Iruka nodded, "if I see him I'll keep him with me. Better together than apart, anyways." With a nod of his head to the assembled Ministry personnel, he wearily moved off into the woods himself.

Fortunately, the group he was seeking were relatively nearby, so it only took about five minutes to find them hunkered down in a small clearing. All present (save the adult Grangers, obviously) had their wands in hand and were warily watching in all directions. Most looked about as tired as Iruka felt, the late hour after a long, exciting day only compounded by their recent surge of activity; they also showed the signs of adrenaline starting to leave their systems, which would do none of them any favors.

"Iruka-sensei!" Hermione called, "We saw the Dark Mark! What happened? Who cast that? Is everyone all right? Where are the others?"

"Mr. Weasley and the others are fine," he replied, "last I saw them, at least. There was a group rioting through the campground, tormenting what looked like a Muggle family. We got the Muggles away to safety, but then I saw the Mark. None of you are hurt, are you?"

"Maybe a few scrapes or bruises from rushing through the woods at night," Wendell answered, "but nothing to worry about."

Iruka sighed in relief, slumping back against a tree as his exhaustion started to catch up with him. "Some Ministry people are already at the spot where the Mark seems to have been cast from. Bartemius Crouch was there unconscious - don't worry," he reassured Hermione, "I could see him breathing - but no idea if he was already down before they got there or if he got hit by the Stunners they were casting. Hopefully they'll catch whoever cast the Mark, but either way I'm sure we'll find out in the next couple of days. For now, I think we could all stand to get back to our beds for the night." This was met by a unanimous round of tiredly enthusiastic nods.

Since the Weasleys' tent was closer, that was their first destination. By the time they got there, Remus and the Weasley men had returned. The five did look slightly worse for wear, suggesting they'd been cast at before they could pull out, but there were no major injuries. All of them looked profoundly relieved to see the younger set coming back unharmed. "All right there, Iruka?" Arthur asked.

Iruka nodded wearily. "Nothing a good night's rest won't fix, though I'm sure a few of us will be a bit sore in the morning." Bill and Charlie chuckled at that, with Arthur and Remus giving halfhearted grins. "How about your end? Did you get them out safely?"

"Yes," Arthur answered, "a few of the blighters tried to curse us while we were busy Summoning them, but between Remus's spellwork and the fact that half of them were staggering drunk, nothing serious actually caught us. We got Mr. Roberts and his family to one of the first-aid tents set up by St. Mungo's. It'll take a couple of days before they're healed fully, but by this time next week they should be fine at home with no memory of what happened to them, something I'm deeply glad for." His eyes grew distant and angry for a few moments, before he shook it off. "You didn't happen to see who cast that water spell, did you? Powerful thing, but whoever did it was hidden from where we were."

"I can't say that I did," Iruka said, before mouthing 'later' to the red-headed man. Arthur gave a minimal nod in acknowledgement. "Regardless, we still have a walk back to our own tent, which I really hope is still standing after that mess. I'll see you later, Arthur, everyone."

They made it back to their thankfully-intact tent without further issues or interruptions, and all promptly fell into their bunks, cots, or bedrolls after doing little more than removing their shoes. Within minutes, everyone in the tent was sound asleep.

* * *

 **Omake: Another Defense Professor Rumor**

By: setokayba2n  
Professor: Lord Voldemort, claiming he's been redeemed  
Reason for Leaving: Falling into a randomly-occurring magical black hole after slipping on a banana peel discarded by Harry Potter

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 **A/N: The first scene was originally going to be part of the previous chapter, but I decided to split it for length reasons after the Grangers' arrival grew way beyond what I'd expected to write. Throw in the realization that I'd forgotten to bring up the Weasley and Diggory families being camped nearby-ish, and my decision was made.**

 **Also, I'm probably going to get in a little bit of trouble with my wife for a line in this chapter. It's a risk you take when basing characters on people you know.**

 **Detail-oriented readers might note that the Weasleys came out of their tent before the rioters reached the area, unlike canon. That's because hanging out with their guests kept them all out of bed longer, so they were more awake and got out faster. Writing the rioters' arrival was tricky, since the scene in the book seems to have Harry watching things for at least 15-30 seconds (possibly a lot more) before Arthur tells them to run to the woods. It does a good job of making clear what's going on, but thinking about it makes the scene make a bit less sense. Much of the chapter caused me similar issues.**

 **The jutsu Iruka used is the same one Kisame(ish) used in his fight against Team Gai, with a name that is translated as "Water Style: Exploding Water Shock Wave". Used by an S-rank chakra beast, it created a lake from nothing; by a past-his-prime chuunin with no available water source, it's a lot less impressive and a lot more tiring.**

 **For those who are confused about the circumstances surrounding the Mark's casting, I do know exactly what happened. It's obviously different from canon, but rest assured that there are reasons for everything which will hopefully be made clear when all is revealed.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Got Your Number" by Afalstein - a crossover between NCIS and Person of Interest in which Abby's number comes up.**

 **Posted 24 March 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 71**


	55. 4-3: Post Hoc

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

* * *

It was well past ten o'clock the next morning when the tent's occupants began to wake, many with great reluctance. Iruka's body ached in that all-too-familiar way that shinobi bodies used to angrily inform their owners that they'd used far more chakra than was strictly wise the previous day. Still, the groggy campers pulled together a late breakfast before packing up their belongings and breaking camp. Iruka and Remus helped Harry and the Grangers carry their bags back to their car, knowing that the lines for the designated Disapparition sites were going to be long no matter when they showed up.

"If we had the space for two more people and their bags, I'd offer to drop you somewhere on our way home and save you the trouble," Wendell said apologetically, "but I'm betting that casting expansion charms on a Muggle car in a Muggle area wouldn't be well-looked-upon by your Ministry."

Remus shook his head, smiling. "No," he said dryly, "it very much would not. Still, the thought is appreciated."

"Besides," Iruka commented, "think of this as our way of showing our solidarity with you: You four spend a long time driving home, we spend a long time waiting in line to go home."

The chuckling group made their farewells, and Iruka and Remus departed for the nearest Disapparition point while the Grangers' car pulled away. Thanks to the previous night's excitement, a lot of wizards and witches had cut short their planned stays at the campgrounds, leading to departure lines so long that Iruka would later learn the Grangers had actually arrived home before he did.

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When he did finally make it back to his quarters at Hogwarts, Iruka found his copy of that day's Prophet already waiting for him. The lead headline screamed: _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_

Rita Skeeter was certainly in her element. Her article tore into the Ministry from every possible angle just in its opening paragraphs, yet most if not all of her criticisms were built on solid factual foundations from what Iruka had seen the previous couple of days. The vituperative not-quite-rant even stretched to include issues prior to the riot, such as the near total non-enforcement of the Statute of Secrecy in the campgrounds and the injuries among spectators during the mascot displays. Granted, it was hard to blame the badly overstretched Ministry for everything Skeeter attempted to lay at their feet, but the fact remained that these things _had_ happened as she described, even if her prose was still overly sensationalistic. Besides, better planning and preparation could certainly have at least blunted many of the problems that had occurred.

On the riot itself, it was interesting to note that the article described the Roberts family as " _a defenseless and innocent family of four_ " - under most circumstances, they would have been named as Muggles. Iruka suspected that this was omitted in order to boost the shock value for a readership that largely disdained Muggles at best. Regardless of the reason, he was glad for a little less bigotry and a little more outrage against such malice and cruelty. What followed, however, was distinctly less welcome:

 _It was just as a heroic group of wizards effected a daring rescue of the four victims that the danger peaked. According to reliable eyewitness reports, an unidentified party somehow conjured a blast of water whose size and violence were beyond what any normal wizard could plausibly create. So great was its scope that it not only swept away the central group of agitators but also caught many of those who had flocked to their twisted spectacle, and even took responding Ministry personnel off their feet! Rioters were tossed about like rag dolls, and that some among them were seriously injured may be taken as nearly certain._

 _While sources consulted by this reporter were unable to name any known, normal magic which could produce such a torrent, subsequent events may provide a clue: As drenched, dazed, and damaged wizards began to Disapparate or otherwise flee the scene of the crime, an unknown party cast the Dark Mark from a patch of woods nearby. The appearance of that symbol of horror and murder, unseen for nearly thirteen years, prompted quick and terrified Disapparitions by more than just rioters._

 _The appearance of that dread Mark distracted and diverted the Ministry personnel responding to the riot, permitting all of the rioters to escape save a few too battered to do so. The night's one bit of good news was that, despite the usual meaning of that symbol of depravity, none of the many innocent witches, wizards, and children who had fled into the woods from which it was cast were seriously injured. This is certainly something we should all thank our good fortune for, doubly so as some eyewitness reports suggest that the rioters may have cast at least one Killing Curse during their rampage._

 _In a further twist, Ministry personnel attempting to apprehend the caster of the Dark Mark succeeded only in Stunning one of their own: Bartemius Crouch, disgraced former director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and presently head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, claimed when revived that he had been nearby and was investigating the Mark's casting when his colleagues filled the area with Stunners. While it is certainly unlikely that such a man would cast the Dark Mark himself, questions must be asked about whether he was truly already in the woods as he claimed, and why. After all, given Mr. Crouch's history (and his employment by the Ministry), one would expect him to have been part of the response to the riot rather than fleeing to safety. Whatever is really going on, this reporter pledges to you, the reader, to find out!_

 _Many questions remain unanswered as of this morning: Who were the rioters? Who was it that attacked them with such brutal efficiency and terrifying power? Who cast the Dark Mark, and why? The Daily Prophet will continue to investigate this incident and bring you any new developments._

 _For information on the Quidditch World Cup Final game, see our Special Sports Section beginning on page 2..._

Iruka couldn't honestly blame Skeeter for reporting (or at least implying) that the water jutsu and Dark Mark were connected. She'd heard hoofbeats and wingbeats together and concluded that it was a hippogriff, when it was actually a horse and a bird just passing each other. That didn't help the frission of resentment born of growing up in a world where the obvious answer was almost always wrong.

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It was no surprise that the chuunin soon found himself summoned to his employer's office. The Albus Dumbledore that greeted him showed the kind of weariness typical of having been roused from sleep and thrown into a crisis situation, and it wasn't hard to guess the cause.

"I take it," the Headmaster began, "that you were behind the rather unexpected swimming lesson given to last night's antagonists?" At Iruka's nod, he continued, "May I ask why you chose that particular attack?"

"Well," Iruka replied, "given the large number of targets I needed something that could affect an area; the Muggles were effectively hostages, meaning it needed to be quick and thorough. Genjutsu would have been my first choice, since it would have potentially let me lock the entire mob down, but if any of them knew Occlumency that could go very wrong very quickly. I also didn't have most of my equipment handy - a few well-placed flash bombs would have really helped, and from now on I plan to include a couple in my day-to-day carry. All that was really left was ninjutsu..." He proceeded to explain his reasoning from the previous night regarding the use of water rather than fire.

Albus nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, the Ministry were only able to apprehend a handful of people last night. Politically speaking, none are of any real consequence, and I sincerely doubt that they will reveal anything when questioned that would be truly useful against their escaped cohorts. As they are all purebloods with influential patrons, it's doubtful that any will spend more than a year in Azkaban, if they are even sent to prison at all. As it is, your greatest accomplishment last night was the safe rescue of the Roberts family. Beyond that, you have managed to greatly inconvenience a few particularly unsavory individuals, and caused varying degrees of injury, expense, and quiet humiliation to a number of others; I suspect we'll see very little of Lucius Malfoy and his fellows for a day or two, while their injuries heal."

"That aside," the aged wizard continued, "I would like to ask if you observed anything related to either the riot or the casting of the Dark Mark that is not already known."

"Nothing comes to mind," Iruka frowned, "but I can leave you a copy of the memory if you'd like. You certainly know a lot more than I do when it comes to magic, witches and wizards, and Britain - you might notice something I didn't know was relevant."

"That would be helpful, though at present I'm not sure when I'll have time to actually review it," Albus smiled wanly. "Let's get that memory copied and adjourn this little talk. We can speak more tomorrow after the staff meeting, but for now I hear the siren song of my pillow."

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The next morning saw everyone in the castle gathered in the Great Hall. A quick glance around showed no changes to the staff beyond the absence of a Defense Professor. Once everyone was settled in, Albus opened the meeting.

"Another year about to begin," he said with equal parts sagacity and eagerness, "and an interesting year it shall be. As you have all undoubtedly noticed by now, there is no Professor present today for Defense Against the Dark Arts; rest assured that I have indeed once again managed to fill that position. This year, the class will be taught by another expert in the field, a retired Auror of some renown, my old friend Alastor Moody." This statement prompted many raised eyebrows around the table, along with expressions of cautious optimism. "Alastor has agreed to teach for a single year only, and has assured me that he will arrive before the start of his first lesson but at a time of his own choosing." Albus smiled wryly. "Those of you familiar with his habits and practices will likely find it no surprise that he prefers to set his own unannounced schedule in order to minimize the opportunity for ambushes. I have also conveyed certain instructions to the House Elves so as to avoid unduly stressing our newest Professor or prompting an unfortunate misunderstanding."

"What of the students, Albus?" asked Poppy, "Alastor has long been the type to hex first and ask questions later."

"Given the numerous prior attempts on his life, I do not begrudge the man a sense of caution, even if he may take it to excess at times," the Headmaster replied. "Regarding the students, I fully expect that his words and actions will swiftly prompt all but the most foolhardy to tread lightly in his presence, and to avoid startling him or acting in a way that could be construed as aggressive. Beyond that, Alastor is well aware that most of our students are underage, and will not use any potentially-harmful spells on anyone unless in response to an attack with similarly dangerous magic. A simple Stunning Hex or Full-Body Bind is harmless, and could serve as an effective object lesson on the hazards of antagonizing skilled duelists."

Some of the staff looked a bit uneasy about this last point, but several showed clear agreement, particularly Severus Snape.

"With that bit of business out of the way, I have two further announcements to make which happen to be connected. The first is that, for reasons which will become apparent, the inter-House Quidditch season must sadly be cancelled. The second is that I have received final confirmation that, for the first time in over two hundred years, Hogwarts will play host to the Triwizard Tournament. I and various other parties involved in organizing the Tournament have already spoken to some of you regarding the preparations necessary; you may take this as confirmation to begin those preparations."

"For those of you that do not already know, the Triwizard Tournament is a competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France, and the Durmstrang Institute in Scandinavia. It was begun in the thirteenth century, and discontinued in the eighteenth due to a rising number of fatalities. This year's Triwizard will be the first successful attempt to revive the Tournament, and will feature numerous changes to the rules and implementation in order to permit the contestants to compete in reasonable safety."

"There will be a total of seven official events throughout the year composing the Tournament," Albus continued, "including the three tasks in which the Champions from each school will compete." A wave of his wand sent packets of parchment to each person at the table. "These documents detail Hogwarts' part in the Triwizard, including the dates of each event, the preparations required, and what you personally will be doing. Take a moment to look them over today, but in the interests of expedience I would ask that you save more detailed readings for after this meeting. You may of course come to me with any questions or concerns you might have. I must stress, however, that none of what you learn regarding the tasks of this year's Tournament may be shared with the students of any of the participating schools, or with their families."

Thanks to long experience as a part-time administrative shinobi, Iruka was able to read through his entire packet during the lunch break. Quite a few points were concerning, and he was less than enthusiastic about the described tasks.

"Albus," he asked, "aren't dragons Class XXXXX Dangerous Creatures? How is a lone teenager supposed to confront something with the Ministry's highest rating for danger to wizardkind with only their wand and without any opportunity to research and prepare? I thought this Tournament was supposed to be designed to _avoid_ the high mortality rate."

The Headmaster sighed. "Sadly, I was unable to convince my fellow organizers to select a more reasonable creature for the First Task; there was a great deal of pressure to maximize the spectacle of the Tournament. The most I was able to achieve was to have personnel standing ready to safely extract any contestant deemed to be in immediate mortal danger."

"Spectacle?" Iruka responded, "Putting aside, then, the insanity of pitting lone teenagers unprepared against creatures normally handled by teams of trained professionals, how does the planned Second Task provide any spectacle at all? And won't the hedges block the spectators' view of much of the maze in the Third?"

"All valid points," Albus answered, "each of which I raised with the Ministry officials in charge of planning for the tasks. Unfortunately, Bartemius Crouch has focused almost exclusively on the organizational and logistical aspects of the Tournament, leaving Ludo Bagman to design the tasks themselves. While Ludo is not an evil man, I am afraid that his judgment can be rather lacking at times, and he tends to take a very laid-back approach to his duties. My concerns were dismissed with little more than a wave of the hand and a 'Don't worry about the details, Headmaster'. I was unable to convince the Ministry to take a more sensible route regarding the tasks, and not for lack of trying: The tasks as you see them are actually somewhat moderated in their level of danger from what was originally proposed, and even that cost me quite a number of longstanding favors to accomplish. I very much fear that my standing with the Ministry has been somewhat diminished for the foreseeable future given how aggressively I pushed for changes. Minister Fudge was most distressed when I threatened to bar the Tournament from Hogwarts grounds entirely if the tasks were not made more reasonable. The Tournament as it now stands is the best I was able to manage, and we shall all simply have to do our best to prevent calamity."

There were a few moments of thoughtful, worried silence before Minerva spoke up. "Are you certain we cannot hold the usual school Quidditch season? I know of more than one student that has a real chance at playing professionally, but their chances won't be helped at all by losing a year of practice, experience, and opportunities to display their skills for scouts. I don't know about my fellow staff, but I for one would be more than willing to put in the extra time and effort needed to see both Quidditch and Triwizard take place."

"Alas," the Headmaster replied, "the Ministry was quite adamant on the matter. They wish us to give the Tournament our fullest attentions. Perhaps more pressingly, none of those involved wish to risk any distraction from the fruits of their labor."

After some grumbling about the idiocy and selfishness of government officials, a pastime shared by every human culture, the meeting settled back down to more typical business.

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A few days later, a slightly worried chuunin made his way to the Headmaster's Office.

"What brings you here today, Iruka?" Dumbledore asked. "No troubles preparing for the new term, I hope?"

"No, Albus, that's all as set as it can be. It's just... Something's been niggling at my thoughts for the past several days, and I finally figured out what's bothering me. Before I explain, can I ask exactly _how_ the three Champions are chosen?"

The elder wizard smiled congenially, easily slipping into 'lecture mode'. "They will be selected from those who submit their candidacy by the Goblet of Fire, a rather impressive magical artifact. Unlike any human judge or group of judges, the Goblet is guaranteed to be truly impartial, picking only the most worthy as Champions, however it judges such 'worthiness'." His smile slipped somewhat. "It does have the one major drawback that it will lock those it chooses into binding magical contracts to ensure that they compete, but I intend to warn the students of this fact before they can submit their names."

Iruka's worry was _not_ eased by this. "And exactly how will they submit their names?"

"The night before the Choosing of the Champions," Albus explained, "the Goblet will be lit. All those wishing to submit themselves as possible Champions will need to write their name and school on a piece of parchment or paper and cast it into the Goblet's flames. After twenty-four hours, the Goblet will burn away all submissions but those it finds most worthy, which it will disgorge to make its selections known. Once the Champions have been chosen, the flames will go out, only relit for the next Tournament."

"But the plans you passed out said that only students that are of age can participate," the chuunin pressed, "what's to stop, say, the Weasley Twins from putting their names in?"

"I will be surrounding the Goblet with a magical defense called an Age Line, which will allow only those who are of age to pass through. This will necessitate weakening the wards in that location slightly, but not to a degree that would permit other means of access to the castle or Goblet. The cutoff could be set at any age, actually, and could exclude those older rather than those younger, but I digress. The Goblet will only accept entries submitted directly by hand, not those thrown, levitated, banished, or otherwise conveyed, so all that is needed is to keep ineligible students from getting within arms' reach."

"And people submitting names other than their own?"

Albus blinked. "I must confess, I had not considered that possibility. Given the attraction of the Tournament's prize, such a thing would be rather unlikely; the Goblet does not accept multiple entries from the same person, and thus entering another would preclude entering oneself. May I ask the origin of this line of questioning?"

"The date," Iruka replied. At his employer's look of confusion, he elaborated. "The Choosing of the Champions is set for 31st October, a date that has a bit of a history over the last few years here at Hogwarts. A quote from a Muggle author I heard a while ago: 'Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action.' Three years in a row something problematic has happened on Halloween, so putting an important event on that day feels like asking for trouble. It may be just my professional paranoia, but I don't like taking chances with the students' safety, especially after Harry's dream and the mess at the World Cup."

The Headmaster frowned thoughtfully. "Given what Mister Potter remembered of his dream, it is not inconceivable that Lord Voldemort somehow intends to use the Tournament as a means to attack Harry, perhaps by having an agent submit his name. I find myself sharing your concerns, which leaves only the question of how we might address them."

"Post a guard," the chuunin suggested. "Anyone looking to submit their name has to have their slip checked by an adult to make sure it's legitimate. Give whoever's on guard a list of eligible students from all three schools."

"It's possible," Albus stroked his beard in contemplation, "though given the nature of our concerns it might be best to ensure that the person on guard would be able to handle one of Lord Voldemort's agents. The list of possibilities is short, and most of those on it could intimidate potential entrants, open us up to charges of favoritism, or even both. We therefore need someone highly capable, difficult to deceive, approachable, and ideally also able to borrow the Marauder's Map from Mr. Potter to ensure that people only submit themselves." Here his twinkling eyes fixed on his guest. "That really only leaves one person..."

Iruka drooped slightly. "Not my first all-nighter," he sighed, "and at least this time I'll know in advance so I can get in an afternoon nap beforehand. Then again, I'd have probably ended up watching the guard anyway if you'd chosen someone else, so I guess this just cuts out the middleman. I'll talk to Harry about borrowing the Map, but given the reason for it somehow I doubt he'll object."

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 **Defense Teacher Omake:**

Source: Black' Victor Cachat  
Teacher: Hermione Granger, because she's already read all the textbooks and knows the material (at least in theory)  
Reason for Leaving: Romantic entanglement with a student

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 **A/N: The title of this chapter, for those that don't know, is the name of a type of fallacy. The "Post Hoc Fallacy" comes from "post hoc, ergo propter hoc", which very roughly translates as "coming after, therefore caused by", and is the incorrect conclusion that because two events occurred one after the other, the second must have been caused by the first. For a more competent explanation, Google and Wikipedia are things that exist.**

 **Also, "Harry and the Grangers" sounds like a band name. I just noticed this. Still the least clumsy way to identify the group.**

 **I'd originally had Dumbledore explaining the Tournament schedule over several paragraphs, then realized that was boring and having him hand out info packets worked better.**

 **It was only when writing the staff meeting that I came up with the idea that the Tasks were originally even worse-designed than we saw, but Dumbledore burned a lot of political capital to try and keep the Champions and spectators safe. The amount he was throwing his weight around in the process could well have contributed to how readily Fudge believed that he was trying to take over. Besides that, I don't exactly find it implausible that the Ministry would have been pushing for more "spectacular" tasks that were likely to get people killed, not out of malice but out of sheer incompetence and hubris. I figure that many Ministry officials, like most politicians, tend to be poster children for the Dunning-Kruger Effect.**

 **Some might be wondering why, if Dumbledore could allow an Age Line by only slightly weakening the wards in that area, he didn't do so to keep students out of the third-floor corridor in 1991. The answer is that this Age Line only needs to last for 24 hours, or actually a bit less given the exact timing of events. Doing this in '91 would have required recasting the Age Lines once or twice a day, and at a power level only Dumbledore himself could manage, and still would have left the Stone marginally more vulnerable than the alternative. Debatably still a better idea, but the white-bearded one is far from infallible.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Escape" by SingularOddities - Sixth Year, a marriage law gets pushed through targeting Hermione as a way to get at Harry. Both flee the country, but that doesn't mean they've forgotten those back in Britain...**

 **Posted 7 April 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 71**


	56. 4-4: Leadup

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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As he had the past two years, Iruka helped Harry 'meet up with' the Grangers on Platform 9 3/4. After all, there wouldn't be much point to hiding where Harry was living only to have him arrive at the platform every year in the same company.

Now the students were settling in for the Welcoming Feast, most of them fairly wet from the raging thunderstorm outside. He had to admit, there was something spectacular about watching the roiling purple-black clouds, forking lightning, and torrential rain through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall while remaining comfortably warm and dry. This would probably be scant comfort to the incoming First Years taking the long way up; by the time they reached the castle, they'd probably be "drookit", as Minerva put it.

When the new crop of students arrived, they all looked like they'd missed the boats and _swum_ across the lake. Hagrid would later relate that one of them actually _had_ gone for a bit of a swim, falling out of his boat before being helped back in by his classmates and the Giant Squid. Given the fact that the child in question was the younger brother of Colin Creevey and seemed to share the older boy's practically Naruto-level manic energy, he probably went overboard because he just couldn't sit still.

All the extra water didn't seem to bother the Sorting Hat, and soon Hogwarts's newest class was seated among the four House tables. Once everyone had eaten their fill and the remains of the feast had been magicked away, Albus stood to give his usual start-of-term announcements. His standard cautions (banned objects, Forbidden Forest is forbidden, etc.) were related to the student body, much of which promptly ignored them. The announcement that there would be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup certainly shocked them, but the Headmaster was interrupted before could describe the competition that would be taking its place.

Thunder echoed in the Great Hall, painfully loud even through the stone walls and closed windows, and the Hall's doors slammed open. Standing in the doorway was a figure leaning on a walking staff, their features hidden beneath a long black hooded cloak. Just after another bolt of lightning illuminated him for all to see, the newcomer pulled back his hood to reveal the scarred visage of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody to those not half-blinded by the flash. Hogwarts's newest Professor began stomping his way towards the Head Table, shocking students with their first good look at his scarred and maimed face on the next lightning strike.

Approaching Albus, he shook the Headmaster's hand as the two exchanged low words - probably a sign and countersign, given Moody's paranoia - before making his way to the vacant seat among the faculty. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher?" Albus said, smiling as if nothing were out of the ordinary, "Professor Moody."

Iruka clapped for his newest colleague, but Hagrid and the Headmaster were the only others to do so, the rest of the staff and students too shocked by either Moody's arrival or his appearance to do more than stare as the man tucked into his dinner.

"Certainly knows how to make an entrance," Iruka said lowly to Minerva as the students began to speak animatedly amongst themselves again.

The Deputy Headmistress just snorted. "Alastor has always had something of a flair for the dramatic," she replied diplomatically.

Albus quickly reclaimed the students' attention, and after Minerva interrupted a digression about a joke he'd heard recently proceeded to explain the basics of the Triwizard Tournament. A lot of the students were clearly excited about the competition, and more than one looked eager to try for the thousand-Galleon prize, though Iruka was pleased to see S.E.N. wearing looks of thoughtful caution.

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The students were piling into the Great Hall for dinner the next day when Iruka arrived at what looked like the tail end of one of Draco Malfoy's habitual bouts of verbal diarrhea, directed as usual at Harry his friends. The chuunin only caught "-blown herself up again lately?" directed at Luna, but it wasn't hard to guess that his current point of attack was Pandora's accident.

"How about your mum, Malfoy?" Harry cut in, "She gotten any unexpected baths recently? Then again, with you and Lucius around, she probably washes five times a day to get the slime off."

"Don't you dare insult my family, Potter." The young Slytherin's pale face was stormy.

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away. He clearly wasn't unaware of his surroundings, though, shifting sideways as Malfoy drew his wand.

Surprisingly, the green-clad Fourth Year was able to cast whatever it was without an incantation. A white curse shot past Harry's head with a loud BANG, prompting screams from the crowd of students nearby. Professor Moody, who'd just arrived on the scene, instantly had is own wand out, and with another BANG had transfigured Malfoy into an albino ferret.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" bellowed the scarred ex-Auror, before turning to Harry's group and the rest of the students. "Anybody hit? Everyone have someone else check you too," he called as he made his way over, "just in case he got one of you and you're just not feelin' it."

This, predictably, led to a brief susurration of panic among the children, all of whom were looking over their own bodies and those of their friends for any sign that Malfoy's curse had connected. A few of the older ones were particularly thorough, especially with their boyfriend or girlfriend. After half a minute of this, the consensus seemed to be that the current-ferret had thankfully managed to miss the entire crowd with his cast.

As the students began to calm, Moody stopped Crabbe from carrying off his presently-fuzzy classmate, and moved towards the Slytherin troublemakers. Malfoy squeaked in fright and tried to dash for the dungeons, but another jab of the Professor's wand had him propelled into the air. Gravity reasserted its hold, as usual, and the ferret fell back to the stone floor with a smack, only to bounce back up into the air as if from a trampoline.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned. Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." As the Defense Professor spoke, Malfoy kept bouncing, rising higher each time and beginning to squeak in distress. "Never - do - that - again -" Moody continued, punctuating each word with another bounce as the white ferret tumbled and spun in a vain attempt to somehow stop the impromptu flying lesson.

The spectacle was soon brought to an end by Minerva's arrival, though Iruka had to fight desperately to hold his laughter in when Moody answered the witch's question about what he was doing with "Teaching." The Deputy Headmistress quickly had the ferret reverted to human form; Malfoy was dizzy, disoriented, disheveled, discombobulated, and generally displeased, but other than the damage to his pride was technically unharmed.

Though the boy in question was dragged off to his Head of House by Professor Moody, before dinner had ended virtually every student in the castle had heard the tale of Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret.

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It took a couple of days, but eventually Iruka was able to catch the Weasley twins alone on a free period.

"Messrs. Weasley and Weasley, do you have a moment?"

"I'm sure we could spare a moment," "maybe even two." "What's on your mind," "Professor?"

"I noticed at the Sorting Feast how... _disappointed_ you both were about the lack of Quidditch this year. Professor McGonagall wasn't happy either when she found out, but unfortunately the Ministry has decided that the staff will be too busy with the Tournament to also run the Quidditch Cup." The chuunin eyed the twin terrors, whose expressions quickly cycled from confusion through realization and landing on anger, proving that they were far smarter than their grades would suggest. "All that said," he continued, "it's no business of ours what students get up to on their free time, so long as nobody gets hurt and no rules are broken. It wouldn't surprise me at all if an enterprising group of students decided to arrange something to entertain themselves and others in between the Tasks, maybe as a way to make friends with those from Beaxbatons and Durmstrang."

When a young Naruto had worn a particular grin, the Academy staff tended to get worried. Seeing it in stereo... Iruka was just glad this particular bit of mischief wasn't going to be aimed at him.

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Midafternoon that Thursday, Iruka received an unexpected visit from a pale and clearly shaken student.

"Neville?" the chuunin asked in surprise, "What happened?"

The teen walked woodenly over to the chair he often occupied, while Iruka stepped around his desk to his own seat. A wave of the Professor's wand set the teapot to heating up.

"Defense class," the young Gryffindor said after a few moments, "Moody did a lesson on the Unforgiveable Curses. He didn't just talk about them, either, he... he had some spiders, and..."

"And he demonstrated all three Unforgiveables on them," Iruka finished. "That was... incredibly insensitive of him, especially since he probably worked with your parents. At the very least, there's no way he didn't know what one of those curses cost you." The chuunin also suspected that he'd be seeing Harry sooner rather than later, but wouldn't be at all surprised if the raven-haired teen had prioritized his friend over himself.

"It was just..." Neville choked out, "seeing that spider, knowing what he was doing to it, knowing people did that to my mum and dad..."

Iruka let him talk. Maybe a trained counselor might have known what to say, but really, what _could_ you say to something like this? If there were words that could heal such a deep, old scar that had been ripped open so suddenly, he didn't know them. All he could do was listen and share what comfort he could.

It was the better part of an hour later that an emotionally exhausted Neville left his sensei's office to find the rest of S.E.N. waiting for him with sad, caring smiles. No words were exchanged, simply hugs from the girls and a clasp of the shoulder from Harry, before the group moved off.

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Harry arrived that evening, and as soon as the office door closed behind him his mask fell away to reveal the turmoil underneath. Again the student talked and the teacher listened, though in this case the fact that Harry remembered his parents' deaths meant that the reminder was much more direct. On the other hand, repeated Dementor exposure the previous year had numbed him somewhat to the memories, lessening their impact somewhat. Either way, Iruka had a bit more he could say, given his background's greater similarity to Harry's than Neville's.

Heading back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry clearly did not expect to find his friends gathered outside Iruka's office. His surprise, combined with hints of triumph from Ginny, exasperation from Hermione, and wryness from Neville, made it clear that he'd tried (and failed) to give them all the slip. Three hugs and a shoulder-clasp later, they departed.

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Unsurprisingly, the Tournament was another major topic of conversation at the next full S.E.N. meeting.

"I've been reading about it since the announcement," said Hermione, prompting fond 'of course you have' eye rolls from Harry, Neville, and Ginny. "It's a good thing they're restricting it to adult witches and wizards, and taking precautions besides. Loads of people have died competing, and even some that weren't Champions have been hurt. In the last Tournament, in 1792, the Heads of all three schools were injured when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on a rampage. It's all in-"

"Hogwarts: A History" the entire group chorused with fond, joking smiles.

Hermione huffed indignantly. "As I was _saying_ , this time the Tournament should hopefully be much safer."

"It's as safe as the Headmaster could make it," Iruka demurred, "though the tasks are still going to be at least somewhat dangerous. If I thought it would do any good, I'd ask you to remind people how nasty it could get, but I've worked with children and teenagers long enough to know how little effect that would likely have."

"How are they choosing the Champions?" Luna asked. Her silvery eyes held none of their usual dreaminess, focusing on her sensei with her keen mind visibly running full-tilt.

"We're not supposed to say," he replied, "but what I _can_ say is that I'll be standing by to make sure that nobody is entered against their wishes. That reminds me, Harry, would you mind if I borrowed the Marauder's Map from the evening of October 30th to after the Halloween Feast?"

"Um... sure, I guess. I know I can trust you with it, after all." Harry was nonplussed. The rest of Iruka's students looked mostly confused, though Luna showed clear relief.

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In late September, word came that Sirius Black had made his first trip out from St. Mungo's, a brief visit to Remus's cottage just to enjoy some fresh air and open, natural spaces. A week later, the two Marauders had gone to Hogsmeade for some shopping and to give Black the opportunity to acclimate to larger groups of people again, though from Remus's account all the notoriety had brought back a bit of the old Sirius, someone who reveled in attention almost as much as a young Naruto.

Their third excursion had been to the old home of the Black family in London, to determine how much and what kind of work would be needed to bring it back to habitability after years of vacancy and neglect, and to possibly check the family library in search of the spells needed to progress work on new copies of the Marauder's Map. This trip was less successful than the previous two: The Black townhouse was not only unfit for human habitation, it was barely even safe to step through the door. While the family's house-elf Kreacher was still alive, he had apparently been badly neglecting his duties in the absence of a master or mistress beyond the portrait of Walburga Black, who was apparently quite insane.

This neglect, coupled with the large quantities of Dark magic saturating the house, meant that it was not only filthy but also infested with numerous magical pests and riddled with curses. Neither wizard wanted to venture too deeply inside without backup, and it had been decided that Black would engage the services of professional cursebreakers and specialists in magical pest removal to scour the building top to bottom before he began renovations. It would be expensive, but between his inheritance and compensation from the Ministry he'd have plenty left to renovate the home after it was cleared and still live comfortably without needing to work.

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Term continued largely uneventfully through September and into October. Weekends saw an unusual number of pickup Quidditch matches, much to the delight of several staff members. If the weather was good enough, it wasn't odd to see a Professor or two marking papers or preparing lessons while sitting in the stands.

Slytherin was less well-represented than the other three Houses, but there were certainly a few fliers in green and silver; interestingly, none had been members of the official House team the previous year, the only such team not seen on the pitch. This was probably because, when the usual Slytherin players had shown up to some of the earlier games and gone into some of their usual dirty play, they were quickly ordered off the pitch by the spectating Professors. Because these weren't official games, the Quidditch rules were more relaxed but the Hogwarts rules were in full force. Roughing up fellow students in front of a staff member was certainly not approved behavior. Since there really wasn't anything to be gained, the offending players decided their time was better spent elsewhere.

Except Draco Malfoy.

The blonde bully continued to show up and _demand_ to be placed as Seeker, particularly in any match with Harry on the other side. After a couple of games, his constant sneering, sniping, and generally bad behavior put his teammates off enough that soon nobody would pick him for their team. This left him to sulk in the stands, muttering about his father and glaring furiously at anyone and everyone outside his little retinue.

Back on the pitch, without the pressure of an official Quidditch Cup to win and no effect on the House Cup standings for score, most of the pickup games were noticeably friendlier and less aggressively competitive than usual, even between players from Slytherin and Gryffindor. Students were having more frequent friendly interactions with those from other Houses, and by late October there'd been a slight but definite dip in the number of inter-House incidents (other than those perpetrated by Malfoy and those in his orbit). Divisions built up over nearly a millennium of separation and acrimony weren't going to be brought down in a week, a month, a year, or probably even a generation, but all of Hogwarts' staff were grateful for the improvement in discipline, especially with visitors coming.

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In the last week of October, Iruka learned from his students that the Fourth-Year Defense classes had been subjected to the Imperius Curse. Of all the children in Harry's class, only Harry had been able to throw the curse off entirely by the end of the lesson. Neville and Hermione had managed some resistance, enough that they wouldn't pass for normal, but even that had required repeated exposure. Apparently being subjected to the Imperius enough could train one's resistance, something Iruka resolved to ask Moody about when the opportunity arose.

First, though, he had questions and both hoped and expected that Albus had answers. This was why he was once again entering the Headmaster's Office.

"Ah, Iruka," the elder wizard greeted him, "do come in. Given the timing of your visit, I'm guessing that you've just heard about Alastor's most recent lesson for the Fourth-Years?"

A bit of tension left Iruka at that query. "So he _did_ have permission for that, then? We don't have to worry about Aurors showing up to drag the latest Defense Professor out before even Halloween?"

"Indeed he did", Albus said with a reassuring smile. "Given the level of success he achieved during his career, his old department at the Ministry was quite willing to accommodate his request."

"That explains the 'how'," the chuunin replied, "and anyone who knows the man can guess the 'why' from his angle. Now the question is, what was _your_ reason for allowing it? Everything I've seen shows that you try your hardest to shield the children from the uglier parts of the world, to let them be young and carefree while they can. Why- of course... Snape's darkening Mark, Harry's dream, the riot and Dark Mark at the World Cup... you're worried something's coming."

The Headmaster nodded tiredly. "When a person has seen and experienced enough, they tend to develop a sort of sense for such things, a feel for the flows and patterns of events in the world. I look at the signs you described, and I am far more than worried. While I have long suspected that Lord Voldemort would return, I had hoped that there would be more time to prepare, especially in young Harry's case. Given the looming potential threat, it is necessary that the older students learn as much as Alastor can teach them about surviving an attack from Dark wizards. His lessons on the Unforgiveables may be harsh, but if we are very fortunate they may be shocking enough to some of the more sheltered children from - shall we say 'certain old families'? - to help them realize that becoming a Death Eater might not be as wonderful as they have previously imagined. If even one child chooses a better path in life, I would count that a success."

"The best victories are the ones where you don't have to fight," Iruka agreed.

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 **Defense Teacher Omake**

Source: BabylonRanger on AO3  
Teacher: Rita Skeeter  
Reason for Leaving: Caught in a spiderweb

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 **A/N: "Drookit" means "soaked to the skin" in Scots Gaelic. Just a little tidbit picked up from reading Harry Crow.**

 **Normally I loathe contriving ways to force events back onto canon rails (along with fics that do so), but I just couldn't bear to not include Draco Malfoy the Incredible Bouncing Ferret. Let's justify it by saying the little twerp would have antagonized Harry regardless - after all, he'd pretty much gone without for the whole summer, so he was probably really pent-up, and... and the Harry/Draco shippers just checked out. I could have probably phrased that better.**

 **A bit more quoting from and paraphrasing of the book than I like this chapter, but similar characters in similar circumstances are likely to say similar things. Don't worry, things should start going further off the rails** _ **very**_ **shortly.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Snowstorm" by ImaginaryNumber - a Burn Notice / Person of Interest crossover, where the Miami crew end up in New York and trouble comes with them.**

 **Posted 21 April 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 72**


	57. 4-5: Visitors

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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As the arrival of the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang drew closer, most of Hogwarts' staff became increasingly tense, worried about presenting a good impression to their international guests. The school's elves had been gleefully giving everything available an extra-thorough cleaning, aided and directed by an Argus Filch who had become even more surly and cantankerous than usual. Iruka had actually needed to have a quiet word with the caretaker after the man had brought a pair of first-year girls to tears with his tirade after they'd committed the terrible sin of failing to wipe their feet when entering the castle. Even Minerva, usually a consummate professional, was reportedly becoming waspish and snapping at struggling students.

Late afternoon on the thirtieth of October, Hogwarts' entire complement of staff and students, along with several of its ghosts, were arrayed outside the castle to greet the two visiting schools which were expected to arrive at any moment. Many of those present, including some of the staff, were speculating on how their guests would arrive; Albus simply responded with a coy smile. Iruka wondered if any of the others noticed that their boss's eyes were primarily scanning the sky and lake.

After a few minutes of waiting, the Headmaster called out, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" This prompted a flurry of activity, children and adults alike looking around frantically, with only a few immediately following the venerable wizard's gaze skyward. The rapidly-growing speck visible in the distance quickly grew closer, showing itself to be a carriage drawn by a large team of winged horses. As it came into the light from the castle's windows, Iruka realized that both the carriage and horses were massively oversized: The carriage itself was as big as a large house, while the horses were each the size of an elephant.

The massive carriage landed with an appropriately loud racket, slowing to a stop in front of the assembled crowd. At this angle, those watching could see the crest that adorned its door, two crossed wands each emitting a trio of sparks, presumably the sigil of Beauxbatons. Almost as the carriage stopped, that door opened and a young male student in pale blue robes dropped out. He quickly turned and unfolded a set of golden steps, a necessity given the fact that the carriage's floor was over a meter and a half off the ground, though it would certainly be entertaining to watch students trying to climb back in without the steps.

When the next person emerged, Iruka began to wonder if everything about Beauxbatons would be scaled up; the woman was as big as Hagrid! Unlike the perpetually-scruffy gamekeeper, the towering witch was immaculately groomed: Her shoes were well-polished, and matched her black satin dress for color, and her hair was kept in a neat bun at the base of her skull. Only the necklace and rings she wore, gleaming with opals, relieved the look of imposing severity, transforming it instead into an impression of elegant professionalism. In terms of actual features, she had olive skin and a face that was more handsome than beautiful, with sharp intelligence in eyes that now scanned the castle and crowd in assessment.

After leading the students in a round of welcoming applause, Albus stepped forward and greeted the woman by name as Madame Maxime (Beauxbatons' Headmistress, Iruka recalled), receiving a warm smile and heavily-accented greeting in return. At the same time, around a dozen teens joined their Headmistress on the lawn, shivering in the late October evening chill. This wasn't much of a surprise, given their lightweight silk robes were presumably designed for their school's much warmer climate. Once again Iruka marveled at wizards' lack of common sense - surely they'd been told that Hogwarts was in the Scottish highlands, so why not wear a few more layers, or at least a warming charm or two?

Wait, did Headmistress Maxime just say her horses only drank single-malt whiskey? Iruka could already hear Hogwarts' budget creaking under the strain of providing enough of the liquor to water twelve mammoth horses. Even with how much whiskey was produced locally, that would _not_ be cheap.

The French contingent quickly made their way inside to warm back up, while the Hogwarts crowd went back to watching for their other guests. Most of the students were now watching the rapidly-darkening sky, but Iruka was following Albus's lead and focusing on the lake. Thus, the two of them were among the first to notice the lake's glassy surface begin to ripple and roil. As the students began to turn their attention lakeward, alerted by Lee Jordan who was probably alerted by the growing noise from the water, a whirlpool began to form at the lake's center.

That whirlpool rapidly grew to a diameter of at least fifty meters. It was an impressive feat; Iruka knew that, even with his water affinity, he would be unable to replicate it without suffering chakra exhaustion very quickly. As he watched, a dark pole rose from the depths, soon revealed as the mainmast of a sailing ship nearly fifty meters long, of dark wood. Between the dark, waterlogged wood and a somewhat damaged appearance, the whole vessel looked like a resurrected shipwreck. The ghostly effect was only heightened by the cold, pale light shining from the ship's interior.

Once the waters of the lake began to calm and the ship made its way to shore, Iruka could just make out the name " _Svärdet_ " emblazoned on the bow. An anchor splashed into the water and a gangplank was swiftly extended, allowing those aboard to disembark. In contrast to the underdressed French students, these teens were radically overdressed in bulky, layered furs. At their head, dressed in silvery furs, was an older wizard who was presumably Highmaster Igor Karkaroff, a former Death Eater who had sold out his comrades to escape prison. Unless the man had reformed himself, it didn't speak well of Durmstrang Institute that they had put such a person in charge.

Karkaroff's unctuous, insincere greeting and his overall demeanor put paid to any thought that he might have reformed or repented. One didn't need to be a shinobi or know his history to tell that this was not a man to be trusted. The fact that he blatantly favored one student (Viktor Krum, of all people), famous or not, did nothing to raise Iruka's opinion of him either.

Everyone headed inside to the Great Hall to partake of the Welcoming Feast and open the 1994-95 Triwizard Tournament.

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The Goblet of Fire, Iruka felt, was a reasonably impressive-looking bit of magic.

For the first hour or two.

When you'd been alone standing watch over it for over six hours, though, it was about as impressive as one of those flaming cocktails that civilians drank when they want to feel adventurous. Yes, it was a cup full of fire, but after the things he'd seen during his career, it was hard to call it truly spectacular. After closer to twenty-four hours of continuous observation, including a somewhat off-label use of a charm normally used by Healers to cleanly relieve a patient of their bodily wastes (it was his best option that didn't involve leaving his post to visit the washroom), he'd be happy to never see wooden cups or blue flames again.

This didn't mean he was going anywhere any time soon. He had a comfortable-but-not-too-comfortable stool, a table with some food and tea to keep his energy up, and an important job to do. Until the Champions were officially chosen and the Goblet had gone out, he'd be standing watch to make sure nobody got entered by someone else. A second small table was set nearby with a quill, ink, and a stack of small parchment slips to make it easier for students to enter (and easier for Iruka to spot any attempted funny business). The Marauder's Map was hidden behind a list of eligible students from each school, and he checked over each slip to make sure the name on the slip matched the submitter's name on the Map and appeared on the list. Filius had even taught him a couple of charms to check for signs of tampering on the slips, and he cast them each time.

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After the two visiting schools' arrivals, everyone had congregated in the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast. The Beauxbatons students, still clearly not warm enough even inside the castle, had elected to sit at the Ravenclaw table, whereas Durmstrang had joined Slytherin. Given the Scandinavian school's exclusion of Muggleborn students, it made some sense that they'd prefer the table of the one House with a similar policy. Four seats had been added to the Head Table flanking the Headmaster's throne-like chair; Madame Maxime had taken the one to Albus's immediate left and Highmaster Karkaroff his immediate right, while the other two remained empty at present.

The food served at the Feast had included a number of dishes from the visiting students' home countries, and Iruka made sure to sample as many as possible. He'd particularly enjoyed a French fish stew that Filius informed him was called "bouillabaisse". It also appeared to be a favorite of one of the French students, who turned a lot of male heads during a brief trip to the Gryffindor table to get the untouched tureen of stew there. Around that same time, two more wizards had slipped in through a side entrance to occupy the two seats at Albus's right; Iruka recognized Bartemius Crouch immediately, while the other could only be Ludovic Bagman, the Ministry's Head of Magical Games and Sports. The former mostly sat and ate in aloof silence, while the latter chattered boisterously with anyone who would respond.

Once the desserts had been cleared away, Albus had introduced the two newest guests before calling for Filch to bring out "the casket". The caretaker had emerged dressed in a very worn set of formalwear and carrying a bejeweled chest that looked centuries old. The Headmaster had continued to describe in broad terms what the Triwizard Tournament would entail, before opening the casket and withdrawing a crudely-carved wooden goblet filled with blue-white flames. After closing the casket once more and placing the Goblet on top, Dumbledore had explained how to enter.

"The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight," Albus had continued, "where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. A small table shall also be placed nearby with parchment, ink, and quills, for the sake of convenience. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. Further, Adjunct Professor Iruka Umino will be standing watch from now until the Champions are chosen, and will be checking your slips to ensure that you are in fact submitting your own name without any attempts at tampering or the like." Iruka could see Crouch's habitually-severe expression darken somewhat, while Moody nodded approvingly.

After a stern warning about the binding nature of a submission to the Goblet, the students had been dismissed. The Goblet had then been set up in the entrance hall as promised, with the Age Line soon cast around it, and Iruka had begun his vigil. Several times throughout his watch, students had taken surreptitious (by their standards) glances, likely intending to make an approach while he was away. Various adults had checked in on him on occasion, both those on the Hogwarts staff and those visiting specifically for the Tournament. All of the visiting students had entered, as had a comparable number of Hogwarts students spread among the four Houses (though Gryffindor and Slytherin had more entrants than Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw). As each slip was placed into the Goblet of Fire, the flames within had briefly turned bright red and emitted a puff of sparks before settling down and returning to their blue-white color.

There'd been a few especially noteworthy incidents between then and now, of course. Karkaroff had paused in the midst of fawning over his famous student when he recognized Hogwarts' own celebrity student. That particular moment went from tense to extra-tense with a dash of awkwardness when Moody stepped in to intimidate the fair-weather Death Eater. "Never sat well with me," the retired Auror had commented to Iruka afterward, "him getting away clean just because he gave up a few names, most of which were no use anyway. Still, we got Rookwood caught thanks to that deal, which is better than _some_ of those scum..." His magical eye had pointedly whipped over to glare in the direction of Draco Malfoy.

During breakfast the next morning, as a crowd of undecided potential entrants and general spectators and speculators had milled around the entrance hall, Lee Jordan and the Weasley Twins came barreling down the stairs with wide, eager grins on their faces. They'd chatted a few moments with a group of mostly Fourth-Years including both their younger siblings, and since they weren't even bothering to keep their voices down Iruka caught something about them having taken a bit of Aging Potion, presumably in hopes of beating the Age Line. Knowing they'd be making their attempt and not certain whether it would work, the chuunin had calmly stepped over to stand between the twins and the stool upon which the Goblet rested on its casket.

When the Sixth-Year trio had turned and seen him standing there, they'd paused before turning back into a huddle, whispering between each other and casting glances his way. After a few moments, the three had separated once again and held up slips of parchment so that Iruka could clearly see that each bore the name of its holder with the word "Hogwarts" underneath. They'd then moved apart to stand at roughly equidistant points around a circle a few meters outside the Age Line, with Lee Jordan at the point directly behind Iruka, who'd stood directly in front of the Goblet with his arms crossed and a slight challenging smile.

At some unseen signal (presumably from Jordan), all three had charged full-pelt towards the Goblet, clearly figuring that Iruka wouldn't be able to stop them all before one managed to submit their name. A small part of the chuunin's mind noted that the twins' footfalls were in perfect sync, albeit mirrored; if he'd been teaching them as ninja, he'd have tipped them off later that pincer tactics might work better with one of them in the target's blind spot, partially hiding the sound of his approach in that of his brother. As it was, Iruka had tensed slightly, ready to show a bit of his speed if necessary.

It wasn't necessary. As soon as the twins had crossed the golden circle that marked the Age Line, a haze of glowing motes of the same color began to gather in front of each of them. Just as both had leapt towards the Goblet, one hand each stretched forward holding their slips and wild grins on their faces, their flight was halted in midair. Both had hung suspended, frozen in place while their grins started to slip and Iruka's own grin grew into a full-blown smirk. Then, with a loud sizzling sound, all three boys had been hurled back out of the circle to tumble onto the floor beyond. The chuckles that had already begun had grown into raucous laughter when, with three simultaneous popping sounds, all three boys had sprouted long, white beards.

The twins had stood up, slightly dazed, then joined the laughter when they saw each other's beards, while a chuckling Lee Jordan had made his way back to his ginger friends. Iruka had drawn his wand and, clearing his throat to get the boys' attention, used a quick spell to draw a large "7" in the air, which had prompted a fresh round of laughter from both the crowd and the newly-hirsute trio.

"Isn't that a tad harsh, Professor?" Albus had spoken as he stepped fully into the entrance hall. "It's true that their landing was a tad rough, but their form was excellent on the leap." The Headmaster's wand had risen, disgorging a ribbon that wove itself into an "8". He'd then addressed the three bewhiskered boys: "I did warn you. I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. Those beards are quite magnificent," he'd said, stroking his own rather similar facial hair, "particularly yours Messrs. Weasley. I would hardly begrudge you choosing to retain such impressively groomed specimens," he'd continued with a twinkle in his eyes, "though I will say that it takes some getting used to, particularly around mealtimes."

All three boys had laughingly bowed to their Headmaster, who dipped his own head in acknowledgement, before Fred and George each linked an elbow with Lee and the trio marched off toward the Hospital Wing.

When the Beauxbatons students all entered one after another before heading to breakfast, Iruka had felt a slight touch of the same influence he'd experienced from the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently one of the girls, presumably the one with long silvery-blonde hair, either was a Veela herself or had Veela heritage.

As evening was falling, Hagrid had entered alongside Madame Maxime ahead of the Beauxbatons contingent. The large man was wearing one of the more outlandish getups Iruka had seen since arriving in Britain (and he'd lived with Xeno Lovegood and worked for Albus Dumbledore!): The orange-and-yellow checked tie wasn't too bad, whereas the brown suit would have looked reasonable enough had it not been _hairy_. The hair on Hagrid's head, meanwhile, looked vaguely like Iruka imagined Moegi's would if she fell into a barrel of oil on a bad hair day - greasy and half-tangled and gathered up into two rough bunches. On top of all this, his entire head was dripping wet, with droplets of water running down the fur of his suit. Given his blushes and the starry-eyed way he was looking at Madame Maxime, this look was presumably Hagrid's best attempt at cleaning up. The Beauxbatons Headmistress was conversing cordially but, at least to Iruka's eye, not noticeably returning Hagrid's interest. Then again, Iruka didn't exactly have the most successful track record with romance, so he figured he'd reserve judgment for now.

Now, at last, _finally_ , Iruka sat comfortably at the staff table eating his second feast in as many days and eagerly looking forward to a shower and a good night's sleep. Like almost every shinobi, he'd done his share of all-nighters, most under conditions far less safe and pleasant than this one and often while already tired and having to run and/or fight the entire time; those were all over twenty years in the past, however, and his body and brain were reminding him that he wasn't exactly young any more.

The food disappeared, and the already electric atmosphere in the Great Hall grew even more so as everyone's anticipation neared its peak. Albus rarely had trouble getting people's attention, and with everyone so focused and excited he had every eye in the room on him before he'd even finished standing from his throne. His announcement that the Goblet was nearly ready to make its decision managed to somehow raise things _another_ notch, before a wave of his wand extinguished every candle in the room save those in the carved pumpkins floating around as Halloween decorations. In the resultant twilight, even the by-now-sick-of-flaming-cups Iruka had to admit that the Goblet of Fire looked particularly captivating.

Suddenly, the flames in the Goblet turned back to the same red hue they'd taken on when accepting a submission, again spitting sparks. With a soft * _whuff*_ sound that was nonetheless heard throughout much of the near-silent Great Hall, the scarlet flames leapt upwards briefly, disgorging a scorched scrap of parchment which Albus quickly Summoned into his hand. As the Goblet's flames returned to their usual shade, the long-bearded wizard held out the scrap to read it by the light they provided.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum." The Headmaster's announcement prompted a round of cheers, including a particularly loud one from Karkaroff. Krum himself seemed one of the least excited people in the room, slouching up towards the staff table before taking a right and heading into the side chamber where the champions were to receive their initial instructions.

A few seconds after the door had closed, another flare of red flames produced another slip with charred edges. "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Albus called to the room. This prompted the same young lady that Iruka had noticed that morning to rise and copy Krum's example. Unlike the Durmstrang students, who'd largely responded to their champion's selection with stoicism, those French students not chosen showed their disappointment openly, in some cases bursting into tears.

Once more the flames turned red, spitting out a third selection. "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" At this pronouncement, the entirety of the Hufflepuff table erupted into raucous celebration as the Sixth-Year stood to join his fellow champions. Iruka clapped heartily, too, glad to see some recognition for a House too often dismissed and derided as "leftovers" or "duffers". The cheers, stomping, dancing, and other jubilation lasted well past when the door closed behind the Hogwarts champion.

Finally, one the Hufflepuffs had settled back down, Albus spoke again. "Excellent! Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

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 **A/N: I have only one thing to say about this cliffhanger...**

 **...**

 **Gotcha! There's actually a little more to this chapter, because I'm just that merciful.**

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Dumbledore trailed off suddenly, looking at the floor to the right of his lectern. Following his employer's gaze, Iruka's breath caught in his throat. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but there on the stone directly between his own seat and the Hufflepuff table, was the unmistakable scrawl of fuuinjutsu script. The characters seemed to be slowly, painstakingly scribing themselves, eight evenly-spaced straight lines radiating out from a center point. Already the growing array was at least fifteen centimeters across.

Iruka stood, motioning to his nearby colleagues and the nearest 'Puffs. "Step back everyone, this is something from my homeland, hopefully just someone trying to reach me somehow..."

As the array's diameter passed the forty-centimeter mark, the spokes sprouted pairs of inward-curving branches. Mentally completing the circle those would form, the chuunin at last recognized it as some form of summoning array. It looked like, in a few seconds more, Hogwarts would have new company from the Elemental Nations.

The branches connected, forming a circle bisected at eighth-turn intervals by straight lines. There was a pulse of chakra that even a non-sensor like Iruka could feel, and a plume of smoke erupted from the center of the array...

* * *

 **Defense Teacher Omake**

From: setokayba2n  
Teacher: Shimura Danz ō

Reason for Leaving: Caught giving strange tattoos to students

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 **A/N: I'm evil. I know.**

 **Don't worry, this is** _ **not**_ **the arrival of some OP badass like Naruto or Sasuke or Kakashi, or some squad of ANBU or jounin. I've been planning this bit of plot since the very beginning, though it was only relatively recently (as of writing this chapter) that I decided to have the arrival happen at the Choosing of the Champions. Halloween's gotta be crazy, right?**

 **Before you ask, no, I am** _ **not**_ **shipping Fleur with Iruka. I just figured that, given his canon preferences in food, a seafood stew would be something he'd probably enjoy. I don't know enough about French or Scandinavian cuisine, nor about Japanese palates, to guess at what else he would or wouldn't like.**

 **The** _ **Svärdet**_ **, by the way, was a real ship of the Swedish navy lost in the Battle of Öland in 1676. In this story, wizards from Durmstrang faked the ship's destruction in order to steal it for their use as an impressive bit of transport to the next year's Triwizard Tournament. After all, why bother spending the time and money commissioning a big expensive ship when you can just steal one from the Muggles?**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Night The House of Cards Was Built" by drakensis - Naruto ends up in a high-stakes poker game at the tender age of six. Hiruzen and the clan heads really should have known better...**

 **Posted 5 May 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 73**


	58. 4-6: Message in a Bottle

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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Given the excitement of the evening, the large amount of sweets many of the students had consumed, and the suddenness of the plume of smoke, it didn't really come as a surprise that the characteristic _poof_ of a Summoning was quickly joined by shrieks and cries of fright and startlement, not all of them from the children. Several staff members had drawn their wands, uncertain of what to expect.

After a few tense seconds, the smoke cleared to reveal a Toad about twenty centimeters tall; its skin was a tortoiseshell pattern in green and purple, and it wore a pair of maroon cloth sashes in an "X" over its torso. Tucked under the point on the Toad's back where the two sashes crossed was a small scroll with orange trim. That color, combined with a Summon with only one known contractor, set Iruka's heart racing with hope.

«Yo!» the Toad yelled, straight at Iruka, «Gamato, the super-awesome courier Toad, reporting for duty! Are you Umino Iruka?»

«That's me,» the chuunin replied with a growing smile, «did Naruto send you?»

«Yep!» At Gamato's reply, Iruka heard a gasp from the Ravenclaw table, and glanced over to see Luna's face split by a joyous grin. «Got a message here for ya from the boss,» the Toad jerked a webbed thumb at the scroll on his back, «but the short version is I can stick around for about an hour, then I'm headed home, so anything you gimme I can pass to the boss for ya! It's gotta be kinda small, though, 'cause I ain't got enough chakra this trip to bring anything big back with me. A scroll or somethin' would be fine, though!» He pulled out the scroll and held it up for Iruka to take.

Meanwhile, the reactions around the room were... mixed. Some - such as Albus and Filius, Madame Maxime, and quite a few Ravenclaws - were looking on in curiosity and fascination. Others (Crouch, Snape, Karkaroff, much of Slytherin) glared at Gamato in disgust or hostility. Moody, Minerva, and a fair number of nearby Hufflepuffs wore looks of caution and suspicion, Moody's magical eye repeatedly looking between Iruka and the Toad. The most prevalent response, though, was one of confusion.

For his part, Iruka casually vaulted the staff table, crouching to retrieve the scroll while pulling another from his robes. «Here,» he said, «this is a log I've been keeping. Just let me read Naruto's message before you go back, in case he's asked for anything I haven't already included.» Gamato nodded, taking the proffered scroll, while Iruka stood and opened the Hokage's message. It was in code, of course, but one of the low-security ones that'd been in use for years and was mostly just used to thwart casual snooping, so to someone that'd spent decades working administrative tasks it wasn't really any harder to read than unencoded text:

 _Iruka-sensei,_

 _If you're reading this, then we finally succeeded! Ever since you disappeared (and Boruto is really, REALLY sorry for that, by the way) I've had people trying to figure out what happened. The best theory they've got is that you got transported somewhere like a Summoning realm or something, so they came up with a way to send a Summon along the same path, more or less. Assuming everything worked like they expect it to, Gamato should have come out right near you, and he should be able to stick around for about an hour and bring back up to maybe a kilo of mass with him. Given the fact that this much took enough chakra to wipe ME out for a few days, you can understand why it's so limited - we didn't want to commit the resources to bring a person back until we were sure it would work, so this is more a test than anything else. Just don't ask me how it all worked; you know theory's never exactly been my strongest subject._

 _But yeah, I put Gai in charge of the team. I doubt he understands much more of what they're saying than I do (he just doesn't understand it LOUDER), but he's hard to beat in terms of motivating people, and he's kept any of the researchers from dominating things or letting their egos get out of hand (getting their ass kicked by a maimed retiree in a wheelchair keeps 'em pretty humble). Between you and me, it also gives Gai something more involved and productive to do than just occasionally advising taijutsu students, and he's really been relishing the challenge._

 _Anyway, send any reply you can back with Gamato, even if it's just a verbal message. Let us know where you are, how you're doing, what's been happening at your end, all that stuff. Also, tell me whether you want to come home ASAP or stay put for a while, so I know how much chakra to use next time. Right, next time - it'll take about a month to prep Gamato's next trip, two if he's bringing you back with him, so you'll know when to be ready._

 _We've included some storage seals full of every type of supplies we thought you might need, from rations and camping gear to weapons and trapping supplies to regular old writing materials (those are in the first seal, by the way, in case you need them to write a reply - Shikamaru's idea). If there's anything we missed or that you'd like more of than we sent, let us know in your message back. The second seal is some more messages from people, and some accounts of what's happened here since the incident at the Academy._

 _Take care of yourself, and remember we're all thinking of you!_

 _-Uzumaki Naruto_

Iruka blinked back tears at the message of support from his former student, before shaking himself and perusing the remainder of the scroll. As the letter indicated, it held a series of storage seals, each with a label beside it to indicate its contents. Given the fact that the label «Reading Material» was in the Sixth's handwriting, he figured he'd hold off opening that one unless he was feeling particularly desperate. Overall, it was indeed a very comprehensive set of supplies, even including some money in case wherever he was accepted ryo and he needed emergency funds.

Opening the first storage seal, he did indeed find a blank scroll with a brush and inkpot, along with a pad of notepaper with a pencil. Figuring that speed would be more useful than calligraphy, he re-sealed everything but the pad and pencil before turning to Gamato. «I'd like to write a note to go with my scroll, if that's not too much for you to take back.»

«Eh,» the Toad said dismissively,«a couple grams of paper ain't gonna be a problem. If you wanted to add a second scroll, that might be a bit much, but a note'll be fine.» He gave what was probably the first batrachian shrug most in the Great Hall had ever seen. Thinking of the hundreds of onlookers reminded Iruka that they were still in public and interrupting a fairly important ceremony. The three champions were probably getting sick of waiting...

"Sorry about that, everyone," Iruka sheepishly addressed the Hall, "it's just that this is the first I've heard from my home country since I came to Britain. We'll get out of your way and let you get back to celebrating." Outside of S.E.N., most of the students simply responded with blank stares and silence. Hermione and Neville just rolled their eyes, while Harry, Luna, and Ginny were trying to hide their snickering. He turned back to Gamato. «Could you please follow me? I'd like to take this to my office - we're sort of interrupting a ceremony here.»

«Lead the way,» came the cheerful response.

Iruka nodded and headed for the doors, Gamato hopping along behind him as every head (save theirs) in the Great Hall turned to track the strange giant (by their standards) talking toad.

«So where are we, anyway?» Gamato asked once they were out into the entrance hall, «I've never heard of a building like this, everybody's dressed in robes, and you were talking some strange language back there.»

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the chuunin replied, then gave a rough translation of the name, «in Scotland, on the island of Great Britain, part of the United Kingdom. The continent is called Europe, on the planet Earth which as far as I can tell is in some kind of alternate dimension.»

«Over my head, to be honest,» the Toad said, «but the whole 'other world' thing kinda makes sense with how weird the trip here felt.»

After a couple minutes worth of walking while explaining their surroundings, man and Toad were safely ensconced in the former's office. «Now,» Iruka said, «just let me write a note to go with that scroll...»

 _Hokage-sama:_

 _I had almost given up hope of ever having contact with home again, so Gamato's arrival was a small miracle for me - not exactly new territory for you, I know. Speaking of typical Naruto, you happened to send him right at the end of a big ceremony at the school I'm teaching at, in front of all the staff and students plus some international guests. Since they'd never seen a Summoning before, or any ninjutsu for that matter (my report explains that bit, don't worry), bafflement and confusion were the general result. Like I said, typical Naruto._

 _The scroll I sent back with Gamato has an explanation of where I've ended up, plus a log of everything I've done and experienced. I also sealed in a bunch of books and items that might be of use, though a lot of the books are in a language nobody in Konoha speaks, so I've included books on the language as well. The short version is that I've ended up in a different world somehow, one that's very different from home, and as part of making a living while looking for a way back I've ended up teaching at a school for children who use real, honest magic. If you think that's strange, wait till you read the report..._

 _As far as the supplies go, I'm pretty well stocked on most things, though having more shuriken and kunai than I was carrying at the Academy might come in handy - if I run into trouble again, I won't have to worry so much about husbanding my supply. Actually, since I've told a few people here about Konoha, could you send some photos of the village, the Hokage Monument, the Academy, Ichiraku's, and the like? Maybe throw in some photos of people while you're at it, so my students can put faces to the names they've heard stories about?_

 _While I would absolutely love to see Konoha and everybody there again ASAP, I've made a commitment that if a way home became available, I would first teach through the end of the current school year if possible. That school year only started a couple months ago, so unless there's only some narrow window of opportunity or an urgent need for me to come back, I would prefer to follow through on my promise and not leave my students here hanging mid-term._

 _Speaking of students, I think you'd really like the small group I've been teaching about chakra and jutsu. One of them in particular, well, in terms of personality and personal history, he's almost like a cross between you and Sasuke. Fourteen years old and he's already saved my life twice despite being a civilian - you'll understand more when you read the report._

 _This world is strange and insane and wonderful and terrifying, and I hope that I'll be able to use what I've learned here to open a connection so that people back home can share it eventually._

 _Let me know in your next message if there's anything you want more information on or more samples of, and I'll see what I can do._

 _Umino Iruka_

 _P.S. - Sorry for the formal opening, but I figured it was best to keep this at least slightly official._

Giving his missive a last once-over, Iruka nodded, before tearing the pages from the pad, folding them, and helping Gamato secure them in his harness with the scroll. "That should be it," he said, "give everyone back home my best for me?" Gamato nodded, have a cheeky salute, then disappeared in another puff of smoke.

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The next time Iruka was among the students was the following morning, and it didn't take a shinobi to notice the 'surreptitious' glances and 'subtle' whispering. The word "toad" featured prominently in the whispers.

As he took his accustomed seat at the staff table for breakfast, he was almost immediately accosted by an especially-inquisitive Bathsheda Babbling. "So what was with that gigantic talking toad last night?"

Iruka smiled, noticing that several of his fellow Professors and a lot of nearby students were unabashedly listening in. "His name was Gamato, apparently. One of my former students, now the leader of my home village, is able to summon Toads to assist him in various ways, and all of them are at least as smart as a human and able to speak like one. As to that one last night being gigantic," he chuckled, "he was actually pretty small. Some of the Toad summons are so big they wouldn't even fit in this Hall, and I'm not just talking about fitting through the doors. Anyway, somehow the folks back home figured out a way to send one of those Toad summons directly to me to act as a messenger."

"Ah!" her face brightened, "So that's what that scroll was? A letter from home?"

The chuunin nodded. "And some supplies in storage seals, in case I was living rough. The scroll I sent back was basically a journal of what I've experienced here, plus some books and the like to help them understand. I wish I could see their faces when they read about flying broomsticks!" That prompted a round of laughter among those listening.

Even if the quasi-eavesdropping Hufflepuffs passed along what they'd heard, Iruka knew he'd still be fielding questions at the next Sealing class or two. Unfortunately for any curious student, he'd already shared all he was really comfortable revealing on the subject.

After the meal, Albus pulled Iruka aside. "I take it that this resumption of contact means you will likely be leaving us at the end of this school year?"

"Most likely," Iruka confirmed, "and I'd probably be gone for some time. You recall how Pandora and I worked out an adaptation of her project that could connect our two countries?" He spoke obliquely, conscious of the fact that they weren't in a secure location. "I'd need to find somewhere to put the transport circle, then do all the seals, runes, and spells to create it, followed by charging it up. The first step would probably go pretty quickly - I'm sure our government would love to have access to the new knowledge and resources that trade with Britain could bring. Laying the circle in would take weeks or months, depending on how much tweaking and adjustment it ended up needing. Charging, well, I honestly don't know how long that would take - in a magic-rich location like Hogwarts, it would probably take seconds at most, but I suspect that Konoha might not have as strong a magical environment."

"Regardless," he continued, "I'd do my best to reestablish contact as soon as safely possible. Both our countries could benefit a lot from an exchange program, and more personally I've got people in both places who I care deeply about."

Albus smiled. "Well then, we will just have to do what we can to ensure that your journey home, whenever it may come, is safe, and that you are as prepared as we can make you to create the bridge between our two nations. If you can give me a list of your requirements, I shall secure a location for you to begin preparing this end of the connection."

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Being a Sunday, that day also held a weekend S.E.N. meeting-slash-training-session, and the five students were all visibly holding back their questions. Luna in particular seemed to be almost vibrating in place, while Hermione kept opening her mouth to begin the interrogation, only to close it again with a determined look on her face.

"I'm sure you're all wondering about last night," Iruka began, "though Luna at least was able to hear what Gamato was saying. The short version is that Naruto and Konoha have found a way to contact me, and to eventually retrieve me." The looks on their faces were mixes of joy and sadness, though the balance fell in different places for each of them, from mostly joyful in Luna to mostly sad and worried in Harry. "That said, unless for some reason I _have_ to go back immediately at some point, I'll be staying here through the end of this school year, maybe a bit longer. Also, even when I do leave, there's a strong chance that I'll be able to visit Britain again eventually, and hopefully even bring some friends from back home with me, maybe take you guys to see Konoha." The last statement definitely brightened all of their expressions.

"So you're not- I mean, you won't..." Harry asked tentatively. He didn't have to say it out loud for his teacher to hear the words "abandon me" at the end.

Iruka smiled gently. "Never. Call me greedy, but I want to have _all_ my students and friends, from _both_ worlds." Harry gave a relieved smile at that, while Luna was simply beaming.

Hermione raised her hand and asked, "Sensei, can you tell us _how_ they managed to send Gamato here? I mean, they'd have to find you somehow, or maybe they just followed the path you took, but that would have sent him to the Lovegoods' house, and-"

"Breathe, Hermione," Iruka chuckled. "Naruto's letter didn't have much in the way of details, so I don't really know how they pulled it off. To be honest, even if they'd sent a complete report on the method, it would probably be over my head - even with all the research I've done since coming to Britain, time-space jutsu aren't exactly my strong suit. I do know that whatever their method was, it must take an insane amount of chakra, since Naruto said it left _him_ drained."

Neville gaped. "But you said he had way more chakra than anybody else in the Elemental Nations, plus being a jinchuuriki and a sage..."

Iruka nodded. "I've never known _anything_ to tire Naruto out for more than a day, and he said this had him tired for three. Best guess, whatever it is has to use chakra from a single source, which would mean he couldn't use senjutsu or Kurama's chakra, let alone just having other people pitch in." This led into a discussion of chakra theory that ended up running through much of that day's training.

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Iruka had been surprised when that Sunday morning's Daily Prophet hadn't mentioned Gamato's interruption of the Choosing of the Champions at all in their coverage of the ceremony. Reading Monday's paper led him to figure that Crouch and Bagman hadn't passed along that little tidbit to the media, and thus it hadn't been until after press time that the Prophet had gotten wind of Iruka's visitor: _STRANGE CREATURE INTERRUPTS TRIWIZARD CEREMONY_

The article that followed was mostly composed of rumor and insinuation, but it did get a few facts right: It had the timing of Gamato's appearance correct, though his arrival was described as an explosion (and, of course, linked with Iruka and fuuinjutsu); they noted Gamato as a large, colorful, talking toad, but the details of his size and appearance were wrong and his conversation with Iruka was described as " _ominous speech in a strange and inhuman tongue_ "; his following a sheepish Iruka from the Hall was written up as Iruka " _imperiously commanding the beast_ ". Checking the by-line revealed that, unless the unregistered beetle Animagus was using a pen name, the Prophet had found someone else to handle unsubstantiated character assassination and scandal mongering. It was probably a different writer; Skeeter's work tended to be a bit more subtle in its insinuations, with a more compelling dramatic flair to really engage (and enrage) the reader.

Though he briefly considered offering Skeeter an interview to set the record straight, Iruka was much more inclined to see if the whole thing would just blow over and be forgotten about. Deliberately drawing attention wasn't usually in the playbook for (most) shinobi, and there was also the consideration that the interviewer wouldn't be particularly inclined towards favorable interpretations given his part in exposing her secret to Dumbledore.

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About a third of the way into the first class period on Monday morning, Iruka got a knock on his office door. Opening it with a flick of his wand (and frowning inwardly at how lazy magic allowed him to be), he found Amos Diggory of all people outside. "Mister Diggory? What brings you here?"

"Official business I'm afraid, Professor; reports of an unidentified magical creature showing up at Hogwarts, wouldn't look good for my department if we _didn't_ look into it." The wizard was 'subtly' glancing around into Iruka's office, presumably looking for Gamato.

"Of course, of course," Iruka replied, "come on in. He's already gone back - he could only stay for around an hour, tops - but I'll be happy to answer your questions. Tea?"

"Don't mind if I do."

Soon enough the two were seated across from each other, cups of tea on the desk between them. Iruka had elected to use the chair behind his desk, just in case he needed a slight edge in the conversation. "So," he ventured, "why don't I give you a brief overview of things, then you can ask questions about anything that you need further clarification on?"

Diggory nodded, pulling a parchment and quill from his robes, setting them up to record after casting a quick **Tempus**. He started out by reciting some standard-sounding record-keeping items - date, time, location, and participants. "Interview in regards to the unidentified magical creature which appeared at Hogwarts on thirty-first October. Professor Umino will begin by describing the events and creature in question."

At the wizard's 'go ahead' gesture, Iruka began. "It was just at the end of the Choosing of the Champions ceremony for the Triwizard Tournament. Headmaster Dumbledore was the first to notice, and drew my attention to, a sealing array beginning to form seemingly-spontaneously on the floor of the platform in the Great Hall upon which the staff table rests, directly in front of my seat. I should note here that several years ago an accident transported me from my home country of Hi no Kuni to Britain, and I have been searching unsuccessfully since then for a means of returning to or contacting my home. Anyway, I realized that this seal was almost certainly an attempt by people back home to reach me in some way, and urged those nearby to keep their distance in case whatever my countrymen were doing proved dangerous."

"The seal that formed looked like some type of Summoning array - a part of a method certain people can use to call various types of creatures or beings to aid them. Once it completed, it erupted with smoke as is typical of a completed Summoning technique, disgorging a Toad courier that gave his name as Gamato. The leader of my village, a good friend and former student of mine, is the only person I know of that is able to summon Toads, so this was obviously a good sign. Gamato carried with him a scroll containing both a letter from my village leader and storage seals filled with various supplies in case I was living rough and needed resupply. I led him here to my office in order to stop disrupting the ceremony, then gave him a note to take back with him along with a journal of my experiences and observations here in Britain. After that, he went back."

"In case you were wondering," Iruka continued, "the 'strange inhuman tongue' as the Prophet called it was Japanese, my native language. Gamato is a member of the Toad clan of summons. The Toads live on Mount Myouboku, a location not generally accessible except by Summoning or similar methods. All but the youngest can speak like a human, and are of comparable intelligence. Some stop growing at around Gamato's size, around..." he did the mental conversion, "eight inches tall, while others continue to grow and can reach the size of a large building." This was technically true, as buildings could get _very_ big. "On vary rare occasions, someone worthy is allowed to sign their contract, enabling that individual to summon Toads to help them. As I said, the only living Toad Summoner currently is my village's leader, the Seventh Hokage."

Diggory nodded. "And what do these Toads actually _do_ when summoned?"

"Different tasks," the chuunin replied, "depending on the Toad - the Summoner chooses who to call once they've mastered the technique. Some serve as messengers, couriers, or scouts; others can provide transportation. In dire circumstances, certain Toads can be called to help in battle: When I was a child, our village was attacked by a powerful, dangerous creature, and our leader at the time Summoned one of the Toads' most powerful warriors to help him protect the village."

"And you?" the wizard asked, "Can you summon such creatures?"

Iruka shook his head. "Summoning contracts are rare and hard to access, and even if I'd been able to sign one I don't really have the power to call anything spectacular. It also wasn't really something I expected to need - I'm a teacher that sometimes moonlit in the exciting world of administrative work. Of course, landing here in Britain having access to a messenger Summon might have made contacting home a lot easier, but this wasn't exactly a planned trip."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Professor," Diggory said. "Interview ends." Once the quill stopped scratching, he grabbed it and the parchment and put them back away. "Everything seems to be in order, so unless something unexpected comes up this should be the end of it, though we'd obviously prefer to have an expert examine and catalogue this toad should the opportunity arise."

"We'll see what happens," Iruka replied.

* * *

 **Omake:**  
 **Based upon my wife's mis-hearing of my mentioning Flippy a while back...**

«Now,» Iruka said, «just let me write a note to go with that scroll...»

An unfamiliar House-Elf appeared with their characteristic crack. "You looks like you is writing a letter. Cans Clippy help?"

 **Defense Teacher Omake:**

From: Just_Will on AO3  
Teacher: Harry Potter  
Reason for Leaving: The rest of the staff realize he hasn't graduated yet.

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 **A/N: I am borrowing a convention from another fic and capitalizing the word "Toad" when referring to a Summon.**

 **As far as why the Prophet didn't learn about Gamato's arrival in time for their article about the Choosing of the Champions, that's simply because Bagman and Crouch didn't tell them. In canon, Harry's selection as a fourth Champion was part of the Tournament, and in fact brought it greater attention and prestige, so Bagman (and whoever had Crouch under Imperius) were fine with telling the Prophet. Here, Gamato is an interruption and a potential distraction - the Ministry doesn't want its big event overshadowed by something else, nor do they want to talk about how it was interrupted or otherwise less than absolutely perfect.**

 **For the scene where Diggory interviews Iruka, I'd originally written out the whole bureaucratic spiel at the beginning, only to realize that it was boring and wordy and irrelevant, so I cut it out in favor of a summary. This was** _ **after**_ **I'd spent several minutes digging through various versions of Hogwarts timetables to figure out when first period started and ended. Oops.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Backward With Purpose Part 1: Always and Always" by deadwoodpecker - the first in a trilogy of some of the best time-travel fics I've ever read. Harry, Ron, and Ginny go back from a much darker future than canon to try and save their friends and family, but they're not the only ones messing with the timeline...**

 **Posted 19 May 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 74**


	59. 4-7: Bread and Circuses

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The next three weeks practically flew by. There'd been one more Tournament-related ceremony, the Weighing of the Wands, in which the wandmaker from Diagon Alley had inspected the three champions' foci to ensure all three were in working order. Though he hadn't had any reason to want to be there, it was still a bit insulting when Iruka was informed by Bartemius Crouch that he was specifically prohibited from attending. Apparently someone didn't want any more surprises.

His correspondence with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black continued. Work had officially begun on the old Black family townhouse in London, but even just rendering it safe was slow going. There had been half a dozen hazards in the entryway alone, from the horrific and lethal down to an umbrella stand jinxed to trip those passing by. The cursebreakers' concentration wasn't helped by the portrait of Walburga Black (Sirius's mother) that hung at the base of the stairs and screamed invective at anyone and everyone that caught her attention. Given that she'd been the last living resident of the house outside her house-elf, it went a long way towards explaining why the place was in its current state.

After an S.E.N. meeting in which his three fourth-year students had discussed Blast-Ended Skrewts, Iruka had sighed and made his way down to Hagrid's hut. The large gamekeeper was presently working on preparing his garden for the rapidly-approaching winter, pulling out the dying plants to throw into the compost heap, while making sure that the various root vegetables were properly bedded in to keep well in colder weather.

"So, Hagrid," Iruka greeted as he approached the Creatures Professor, "I hear you've got something very... novel that you're using with the fourth-year class?"

"Tha's right!" Hagrid beamed proudly, "Blast-Ended Skrewts, bred 'em m'self! Figured it'd be good fer the kids to get some experience learnin' about how to handle somethin' nobody's seen before. Plus it lets 'em work at raisin' somethin' up, rather than jus' workin' with grown ones."

It took the chuunin some effort not to palm his face. "Hagrid, wouldn't that kind of lesson, especially working with unknown creatures, be better-suited for your N.E.W.T.-level students? Even then, it'd be best to give them something that at least _you_ know about, so that neither the students nor the creatures end up harmed because of a student's ignorance. From what you've said, you've got fourth-years working with a completely new species, an unknown creature that could present _unknown dangers_ to the children."

The kindly titan waved off Iruka's concerns. "The Skrewts aren' dangerous or nothin', jus' a little rambunctious. Nothin' ter worry about."

Iruka sighed. "We've talked about this Hagrid, last summer when you were preparing your lessons. Your students aren't anywhere near as large or strong or durable as you are; something that might not even draw blood on you could cause a serious gash on one of them. Creatures you would call 'cute' and 'playful' are what everyone else calls 'apex predators'. Just think for a minute about what their teeth and claws and the like are used for in the wild, then remember that your students are _children_ , the _young of the species_ , and consider what many predators target when they can." He hated doing this to the man, but unfortunately Hagrid had the kind of naïveté in which, because he had so little malice within himself, it was hard for him to realize that other people or creatures might not be so pure nor as gentle.

Hagrid's bushy eyebrows came together as he thought hard for a few moments, before his beetle-black eyes widened in horror. Seeing the large knees start to wobble, Iruka quickly snapped off a Summoning Charm to bring over a Hagrid-proportioned wooden stool from near the side of the hut, allowing the large man to sit. "I... I never though' of it like that," he said quietly. "I guess I might've been puttin' the students a' risk without knowin' it. I'll talk ter Professor Dumbledore, get his advice on fixin' my lessons."

The chuunin nodded sympathetically. "That sounds like a good idea. You could also see if you can get your hands on Professor Kettleburn's old lesson plans, to see how he did it, and maybe look into what creatures are covered on O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. For now, at least, it'd probably be best if you handled the Skrewts yourself."

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Iruka found himself entering the Hospital Wing, after a bit of overheard gossip had informed him that Hermione had been hexed during an altercation between classes. He was immediately suspicious when he saw how happy Hermione was, not the state one would expect from someone that'd just been hexed into the infirmary. There was also, unless he was mistaken, a hint of pride in her grin - a grin in which her teeth were neat and even.

"I hear there was a bit of an incident earlier," he said as he approached her, "could you tell me what happened?"

Hermione nodded. "We were outside the Potions classroom, waiting for the door to open," she began, using the same tone of voice she would answering a question in class. "Malfoy started trying to insult Harry, Neville, and me, just his usual tripe. It wasn't pleasant, obviously, and I could tell Harry in particular was starting to get really angry, but we kept our cool. As usual, like you taught us, we ignored him. Not reacting the way he was hoping frustrated Malfoy, and seeing that does make it easier to laugh off whatever he's saying. It probably didn't help that Harry and Neville got in a few jabs back, and got a lot of the Gryffindors and even a couple Slytherins laughing at Malfoy. He got really angry, pulled out his wand, and cast a Tooth-Growing Hex at Harry. Harry dodged and, well..."

"And you, recognizing the hex and what it did, let it hit you?" The sheepish look on her face was all the answer Iruka needed. "I know you said before that other children would tease you about your teeth, but did you really have to get yourself hexed over it?"

Now the sheepish look was augmented by a blush, and tinged with a hint of shame. "Madam Pomfrey wouldn't do something cosmetic like that without my parents' permission, and they wanted to try non-magical methods before resorting to magic."

"So when you realized what Malfoy was casting, you saw it as an opportunity to work around those restrictions," he reasoned. "Quick thinking, I'll give you that, but I'm going to ask you to write to your parents and explain what happened, what you did, and why. Whether you do that or not, I'll be writing them myself at the end of the week. They deserve to know about this, and I'd like their side on why they were refusing permission to get your teeth fixed magically, to understand whether they had valid concerns or if they were being a bit unreasonable. As it stands, while I won't say that what you did was out-and-out wrong, it certainly wasn't right either."

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The adult Grangers' reply made things clearer. Part of their rationale, Wendell admitted, had probably been their own professional pride, something Iruka had expected. They also, however, were concerned about what exactly the long-term effects of magical tooth modification would be. Non-magical medical treatments, at least in some countries, were required to pass a rigorous and often extremely long and expensive process of proving that they were safe and effective, with any potential side-effects thoroughly documented. The goal, quite a logical one Iruka thought, was to let both patients and those treating them make fully-informed decisions about whether the risks of a treatment were outweighed by the benefits.

Knowing in excruciating detail the numerous ways things could go wrong in the human mouth, neither dentist was willing to approve any cosmetic work unless they could be assured that it wouldn't cause problems down the line. Monica specifically cited the concern that simply shrinking a tooth would also shrink the blood vessels that fed its living center, possibly to the point where they wouldn't function properly any longer. On top of that, many spells only lasted for a finite period of time, and what would happen if Hermione's front teeth suddenly grew back to their previous size? With so little information available to them about the potential risks and side-effects of magical healing, both parents greatly preferred a method that they _knew_ would work and be safe.

Their letter also informed him that they'd sent a similar explanation in their reply to Hermione, something both adults acknowledged that they should have given several years prior. In the end, neither parents nor child had handled things perfectly, but a lesson had hopefully been learned about open communication.

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After lunch on November twenty-fourth, Iruka joined the rest of those at Hogwarts in trooping down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where an arena of sorts had been set up. Sets of recently-constructed stands flanked an enclosure in which the First Task would take place. Its floor was bare earth, with a few boulders of varying sizes scattered about, and a ring of smoother stones surrounding the shallow pit that would serve as the nests for the mother dragons the champions would be facing. Said dragons would be brought in and removed, along with their clutches, at one end of the arena, whereas the other end held a pair of tents. One of them was the medical tent, in which Madam Pomfrey had already set up everything she might need to treat a person injured by a dragon; the second tent was positioned so that it, along with the surrounding trees, would effectively block any sight of the arena for someone approaching from the castle. Of course, this concealment was helped along by a few charms as well.

Everyone, bar the champions and those responsible for handling the dragons and/or stepping in if things went too far wrong, was now seated in the stands. Iruka himself was part of the emergency-response group, and was standing Disillusioned just inside the edge of the arena but safely out of the range of any of the dragons' flaming breath.

Angry roars heralded the group of dragon-handlers bringing in the first dragon, her eggs, and the golden egg that the first contestant would be asked to retrieve. The Swedish Short-Snout had silvery-blue scales, and her occasional blasts of flame were a brilliant blue that showed their tremendous heat. Seeing dragonfire for the first time, Iruka understood why Albus had been clearly just humoring him about preparing hidden reserves of water under the stands to supply water jutsu - flames that fast and hot could fatally burn someone before he'd even finished his hand-seals.

Bagman announced Cedric Diggory as the first champion to make an attempt. The popular Hufflepuff was visibly terrified, and desperately trying to come up with some way to accomplish his task. He wisely stayed well out of the Short-Snout's reach and range as he was thinking, though the slowly-growing grumbles of the crowd showed that at least some of the spectators were less than pleased at this prudent caution.

After a couple minutes of contemplation, Diggory's face firmed. With a look of resolve and intense concentration, he raised his wand not towards the dragon, but to her side a ways. A complex little gesture later, and one of the rocks well away from him turned into a large dog that started running around the arena's edge, barking loudly. Between the human standing quietly and the dog moving and making noise, it was no surprise that the Short-Snout deemed the latter to be the more immediate issue and turned to face it.

It took a while for the transfigured dog, quietly directed by the Hufflepuff's wand, to begin to draw the mother dragon off her nest. Slowly, often glancing back at her eggs, she edged towards the canine pest. Once he deemed her far enough, Diggory began cautiously working his way closer to his target. About three-quarters of the way there, he broke into a mad dash; presumably he was aiming to spend as little time as possible in the danger zone, or maybe the tension had overridden his patience. Whatever the reason, it turned out to be the wrong play, as his rapid movement towards her nest almost instantly drew the Short-Snout's attention. Luckily, she had moved far enough that he had time to almost completely dodge the blast of flames she sent his way just as he was grabbing the golden egg. Even so, as he fled full-speed for the tents and the dragon-handlers moved in to subdue the raging dragon, Iruka could see some nasty burns. His injuries, plus the amount of time he'd taken, were counted against him by the judges, though he did get credit for a skilled bit of transfiguration. Karkaroff, notably, gave a him a score of only two out of ten, far lower than the rest of the panel.

Several minutes of what looked like some very taxing and dangerous work by the dragon-handlers later, it was a Welsh Green hunching protectively over her eggs in the arena. Fleur Delacour emerged from the tent to face it, her posture showing a mix of apprehension and determination. She lifted her wand towards the dragon, beginning to move it in large, lazy sweeps through some kind of intricate pattern while chanting an incantation that sounded almost musical. Slowly, painstakingly, the wary beast began to relax, her eyelids drooping as she fell into some sort of trance or outright sleep atop her nest.

Given what Iruka knew about dragons, Delacour had gotten incredibly lucky regarding her dragon breed - Welsh Greens were some of the least aggressive dragons, often preferring to avoid confrontations. That more relaxed nature certainly made the French champion's strategy more effective. Still, it was impressive that she'd managed to affect such a powerful and magic-resistant creature, and a smart idea to adopt a strategy that likely took advantage of her Veela heritage.

Unfortunately, even the best of plans can have their hiccups. As Delacour was quietly making her exit after extracting the golden egg, her dragon _snored_. It would have been purely hilarious to see such a majestic and fearsome beast snoring like a big, sleeping dog, had it not been for the long, narrow stream of fire that emerged as a result. Thankfully, it only caught the hem of the young witch's skirt, and she quickly put out the flames with a jet of water from her wand, but it still ended up costing her a few points. Even so, her level-headedness throughout the task combined with her remarkable charm work led to a much higher score than Diggory. Again, the Durmstrang Highmaster gave an unreasonably low score.

The third mother dragon was brought in, this one a Chinese Fireball. The reason for the breed's name was immediately apparent, as she shot mushroom-shaped bursts of flame around the arena in her agitation. Viktor Krum stepped out, and after sizing his opponent up for a few moments went straight on the attack, hurling spells at the dragon's face. His target seemed to be her eyes, one of the few vulnerable points on a dragon's body. After a few attempts, he managed to land a Conjunctivitis Curse, blinding the beast, which thrashed around in pain and rage, incidentally trampling several of her own eggs.

While the power and accuracy of the curse was nothing to scoff at, Iruka was distinctly unimpressed by Krum's strategy and downright angry at the needless destruction of the young of a protected species. This latter offense was partly due to the organizers' poor planning, but even so such a directly combative approach was not something the chuunin felt worthy of praise. It would seem, however, that the judges felt differently: Krum was given the highest score, due to a combination of speed, spectacle, and his Highmaster's favoritism (he of course gave his prized student a perfect ten).

All told, then, the scores were Krum 34, Delacour 31, Diggory 30. Each champion now had a golden egg that would give them a clue about the nature of the Second Task, which would take place in three months' time.

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A few days later, Iruka was reading up on tricks for making maximum use of limited magic when he felt a slight tingle of chakra, and glanced up from his book to find a summoning array spreading across his office floor. He pulled out the pad and pencil that had accompanied the first message from home, along with a scroll containing his log of the past month.

With a puff of smoke, Hogwarts' occupants again included a Toad. «Yo!» Gamato greeted as before, «Got another message for ya!»

«Nice to see you again, Gamato,» Iruka smiled pleasantly, «I've got an update to my report here, just let me see if there's anything in Naruto's message I should include a reply to.» He took the proffered scroll from his visitor's webbed grasp, and opened it up.

 _Hey Iruka-sensei!_

 _Congratulations, I'm pretty sure you got a record number of "troublesome"s out of Shikamaru for a single mission report. Oh, right, I'm classing your little trip as an extended B-Rank mission, with bonuses for some of the more interesting stuff you've sent back. And speaking of sending things back, you_ have _to send a broom or two in your next report if you can. Please? I know_ I _can fly, but something like that is just way too awesome not to share with people, even if it didn't have some useful applications. The big flying machines also sound interesting, maybe a new way to let civilians travel long distances - I've already got R &D looking at those and some of the other tech stuff you sent along._

 _Oh yeah, and expect a hug from Sakura when you get back for sending those medical potions. A few of them would totally be in the standard first-aid kit for our ninja already if we had enough to do that with. Any more you can send, you can bet they'll see good use._

 _That place you're at sounds really weird, but in a fun and interesting way, y'know? Real magic, huge dragons, old castles - I'm seriously jealous, and not just because I've got a half-meter stack of paperwork waiting for me. I thought these computers were supposed to cut that crap down?_

 _That Voldemort guy sounds like a lame Orochimaru knockoff. Heh, wonder what'd happen if we dropped 'em both in a room - bet it'd be something we could sell tickets for, wouldn't you say?_

 _So, you've got a crop of students there, huh? By the way, I'm totally backing your decision to train those kids - they sound cool and I hope I get to meet them at some point. I'll especially want to thank that Harry kid; he's saved you more times than I have by now! You were right about how eerie it is, him being kinda like a cross between me and Sasuke. Sasuke read that part of the report too. He said, and I quote, "Hn."_

 _A~nd now he's glaring at me._

 _Seriously, dude, stop reading over my shoulder. I don't care that you're doing it from across the room, it's still creepy._

 _Anyway, I've included copies of a lot of the basic scrolls from the Academy library - theory, chakra usage, the real fundamentals-type stuff that I totally failed at most of the time. We didn't really have time to translate it all, especially since all of about five people here can read a usable amount of English so far, but maybe they'll help you with your little pre-genin team. I also got some photos together like you asked for, plus a couple of the basic history and geography textbooks in case those'd help._

 _I'll send Gamato back in another month-ish, same deal as this time. Can't abandon your students, after all - what would Kakashi say?_

 _Best wishes from everyone here,_

 _Naruto_

Seeing that there wasn't really anything that needed a specific reply, Iruka just passed his report scroll over to Gamato, already pondering what brooms to get and planning to insist that someone have a camera handy for the first tests...

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As November drew to a close, Iruka received another odd visitor in his office. Like Gamato, this one was green and had large eyes; unlike Gamato, he was entirely green and native to this reality. This visitor was easily the most oddly-dressed house-elf the chuunin had seen, not that he'd seen all that many: Aside from a single black sock that showed clear signs of heavy wear and repeated mending, he mostly wore an ill-fitting and somewhat shabby black Muggle-style suit with white dress shirt, sized for a human child that was slightly taller and significantly less scrawny.

"Can I help you?" Iruka asked.

A look of worship came across the elf's face. "Professor Umino Sir is being so kind," he muttered, "asking if he can help Dobby, just like Great Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby, eh? That would explain the sock - probably the same one Harry used to get him freed. Dobby seemed to collect himself after a moment, standing at an amusing attempt at attention. "Professor Headmaster Sir bes hiring Dobby to work at Hoggywarts, and Dobby bes asking if he can work for Great Harry Potter Sir, but Professor Headmaster Sir is saying that students can'ts be having their own elves at school, but Dobby remembers Professor Umino Sir and how he helps Dobby protect Great Harry Potter Sir from bad old master, so Dobby asks if he can be Professor Umino Sir's elf, and Professor Headmaster Sir says that he cans be if Flippy and Professor Umino Sir be agreeing to it. Dobby asks Flippy, and Flippy agrees if Professor Umino Sir does, so Dobby wonders if he can be taking over as elf assigned to Professor Umino Sir?"

Taking a moment to parse the long string of mangled grammar, the chuunin responded. "If the Headmaster and Flippy are both all right with it, then it's fine by me, though there will be a rule or two. First off, I'm sure the Headmaster has already said something along these lines, but no punishing yourself like the Malfoys used to make you."

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping comically. "Professor Headmaster Sir says the same thing."

Iruka smiled. "Good. The other big rule is that you don't do what you did two years ago, interfering with and attacking Harry to try and scare him away. If there's a threat that you know about, tell me or the Headmaster and we'll figure out what to do. Of course, if someone or something is attacking right at the moment, you can feel free to do to them what you did to Lucius Malfoy." Both man and elf wore similar smiles of fond remembrance for a moment, though the edge of vindictive pleasure in both's expression would have probably disturbed an outside observer.

"Oh, and one more thing," the chuunin said, realizing a potential issue in the future, "there are things about me and what I'm teaching Harry and his friends that most people don't know, outside of the six of us and Headmaster Dumbledore, so please don't go telling anyone else about them without our say-so, okay?"

The house-elf looked affronted. "Dobby is a _good_ elf, even when bad masters was doing terrible things, Dobby didn't tells anyone what bad master's plan was or who bad master was."

"Of course, of course," Iruka placated, "I just wanted you to know that some of these things _are_ secrets, so you know what not to talk about."

Dobby nodded enthusiastically enough that the tips of his ears started slapping against his cheeks. "Dobby understands. Dobby wills keep secrets of Great Harry Potter Sir and Professor Ninja Sir!" With the characteristic cracking sound, he vanished, presumably off to work around the castle until called upon.

Iruka sat back, slightly tired from the somewhat bizarre conversation, before straightening again. "Wait, how did he know I was a ninja?"

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 **Omake:**

 _Sasuke read that part of the report too. He said, and I quote, "Hn."_

The next kanji was unreadable, as the first stroke suddenly veered off the edge of the scroll at a wild angle. More text followed, crammed in around the mark.

 _Sorry about that. Sakura was reading over my shoulder and dope-slapped me halfway out of the village. At least the window was open this time._

 **Defense Teacher Omake**

From: Black' Victo Cachat  
Teacher: Hagrid, teaching about creatures _he_ considers dangerous  
Reason for Leaving: Even Dumbledore has to put his foot down when he hears that Hagrid is shipping in Basilisks.

From: setokayba2n  
Teacher: Pein  
Reason for Leaving: The position was for one teacher, not six.

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 **A/N: The explanation of the Grangers' motives in refusing to let Hermione get her teeth magically shrunk was yet another case of me looking at a canon thing and going "Okay, now how do I make this make sense given how I've characterized the people involved?"**

 **I had the order of dragons and champions be the same as the book, just no Harry and no Horntail. And no, Cedric didn't know about the dragons - Fleur and Krum did, same as canon, but with Harry not tipped off about them he can't pass the warning along, can he? Thus, Cedric looks more frightened but gets a bit more credit from the reader for quick planning. The lack of advance warning did worsen his performance enough to cost him a couple points, dropping him to third place. We don't know what Fleur's score was in canon, only that it was lower than Cedric's which had to be 32 (based on their scores in the 2nd task and him tying Harry afterward). Since personally I think she had the best plan, I've given her a score just barely below Cedric's canon one.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "Your Fault" by Sarah1281 - Several of the antagonists from Naruto argue in the afterlife about who was most to blame for things.**

 **Posted 02 June 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 75**


	60. 4-8: Ho-Ho-Horcrux

**Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.**

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The photos were a big hit with S.E.N., with Neville in awe of the vast trees of Konoha and the three girls cooing over baby pictures of Uzumaki Himawari (Naruto, proud father that he was, had made sure to include several images of his family). Hermione started talking about the different architectural styles, and how the Hokage Tower was so different from anything she'd even heard of on Earth. Harry was most eager to see the people he'd heard so much about, and Luna loved the photo of Naruto with the two Toad Sages on his shoulders. Ginny was impressed by the various powerful kunoichi, but was a bit disappointed at the lack of 'action' shots. Iruka had to explain that photographing a shinobi while they were performing a jutsu was considered on par with peeping on them in the bath (or possibly even worse, given the proclivities of certain high-profile ninja); ninja culture was extremely secretive by nature, and nobody wanted detailed knowledge of their techniques or capabilities to get spread around.

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In mid-December, with the Yule holidays fast approaching, Iruka received a rather cryptic note asking for his presence in the Headmaster's office. He arrived to find the office occupied not only by an Albus Dumbledore looking as serious as the chuunin had ever seen him, but also by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, already seated and wearing expressions that mixed worry and confusion.

A third chair sat empty before the Headmaster's desk, and Albus motioned for him to take a seat. As he did, Iruka noticed a gaudy locket sitting in a cleared space in the center of the desk, and saw how the other men in the office seemed strangely wary of the bauble. The locket was quite large, about the size of a small egg, and oval in shape; it was made of gold, with a large letter "S" marked out on its face in small green gems.

"I'm guessing," he said, "that there's a story behind this piece of jewelry?"

Albus nodded somberly. "We shall begin with the most recent chapter of that story, so that you may understand how this meeting came about. Sirius, Remus, would you care to share this portion?"

"Well," Black began, "you know how we've been having my family's old house cleaned out? This locket was in one of the cabinets in the drawing room, and the Curse-Breakers said they didn't know what it was but it had some of the Darkest magic they'd ever seen. I didn't recognize it so I asked Kreacher, the old family elf, where it came from. It took some doing to get the story out of him," here his eyes grew distant for a few seconds, before he shook it off and continued, "but it turns out my brother Regulus sacrificed his life to steal this thing from the Dark Bastard."

"Since the Curse-Breakers couldn't identify it," Remus cut in, "and given who it apparently used to belong to, we figured we'd bring it to Albus to see if he would know what to do."

"He wanted us to just leave it with him, forget about it," Black picked back up with a brief glare at the Headmaster, "but Remus managed to argue that we were already involved, whatever it is, so we might as well know since if something involves Moldyshorts it involves my godson, and _his_ well-being is _my_ business. Then Dumbledore figured we'd probably end up telling you anyway seeing as you've been the one looking after Harry's safety recently, so he called you up here to explain it to you too."

"And thus," Albus said, "we come to the present. Before we continue I must impress upon all of you that all knowledge regarding this locket and what we are about to discuss _must_ remain absolutely secret. If Lord Voldemort should discover what we know, it could doom us all. I may agree at some point in the future to share this with Harry, but for now at least it is one of our most dangerous secrets. The term Iruka has used in the past is 'need to know': There is nobody outside this office that needs to know about this, and frankly most would likely not _want_ to know either - you will understand shortly."

The Headmaster's penetrating gaze locked onto each of his three visitors in turn, only moving on when they had nodded their assent. "Very well," he began, "I am quite certain that this locket once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. Rather curious that he would make it from gold, rather than silver; perhaps he preferred the ostentation, but I digress. How Tom Riddle came to possess it is also a story for another time. What is of immediate relevance is that I am quite certain that he has turned it into what is known as a Horcrux, by far one of the foulest creations of Dark magic ever conceived, beyond even the Unforgiveable Curses."

"I will not share any details of a Horcrux's creation," he continued, "as they are of no use to us and are horrific in the extreme. What I will say is that it begins with the use of a vile Dark ritual to prepare the object that will serve as the vessel, followed by an act of deliberate murder, and finally the casting of another Dark spell. Murder, one of the most foul of crimes, tears at the murderer's soul. Rather than healing this wound, the spell widens it, ripping away a piece of the caster's damaged soul to encase it in the prepared vessel." Both of the other wizards present wore looks of shock and revulsion, while Iruka's lips were pressed into a thin line, his face set in a scowl.

"But..." Black stammered, "Albus why in Merlin's name would _anyone_ do something like that? Rip their own soul apart?"

"Immortality," replied a grim-faced Headmaster, "at least of a sort. A Horcrux acts as an anchor, and while it remains intact its creator cannot fully die. Their body can be killed, this is true, but their soul will not pass on so long as it is anchored to this world. It is quite likely that the old fairy tale 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart' is based on the story of an actual Dark wizard who made use of a Horcrux."

"So that's why he's not gone," Remus realized, "he set up an anchor as a failsafe, so that even if somebody beat him, he'd be able to stick around. Given what Iruka and Harry have told me of their first year here, it worked, too."

Iruka nodded in agreement. "Harry told me about a conversation he had with Hagrid, when he first found out what really happened to his parents. Hagrid said he didn't think that Voldemort was dead, that he didn't have enough human left in him to die. I guess he was closer than he knew, not that I'm likely to tell him any time soon." They all shared a sardonic smile at that. A good man Hagrid might be, but everyone knew that he was utterly unable to keep secrets.

"So we destroy this thing, the tosser dies?" Black asked hopefully.

Albus hesitated. "Perhaps. It is possible that destroying this locket will sever Voldemort's last link to the mortal plane. The problem lies in the fact that, less than two years ago, another item was destroyed. From what I could determine, _it_ was Tom Riddle's Horcrux."

Iruka's eyes widened. "The diary." It wasn't a question.

"Indeed," the Headmaster confirmed, "its power, durability, and independence all suggested that it was more than a mere enchanted item like a portrait or the Sorting Hat." Several quiet scoffs could be heard around the room, with one muttered ' _mere?_ '. "I could of course have been incorrect in my assessment, but there is a far more worrisome possibility, one which no Dark wizard in recorded history is known to have attempted."

Remus's amber eyes were almost glowing as he let out a low growl. "He made more than one of those abominations?!"

Albus nodded somberly. "Tom was ever the ambitious student, never satisfied to stop at any point that others had reached, always seeking to set himself above and apart from everyone else. I consider it neither impossible nor implausible that he would seek to create more than one Horcrux. Judging by your expressions, it would seem that you have all reached the same troubling conclusion that I have: This may not be the last of Tom's Horcruxes, with one or even several yet to be discovered."

The room was silent at that, aside from the odd noises occasionally produced by some of the odd gadgets around the room. After several moments of quiet contemplation, Black asked, "So what do we do now?"

"First, I think," said the Headmaster, "we destroy the Horcrux we do have. It is not an easy thing to do, as the only known means of stripping the anchor is to destroy its vessel beyond the ability of magic to repair. Fiendfyre would likely work, or perhaps some of the more powerfully destructive Muggle technologies, but fortunately we have at our disposal something far more controllable." At this, he rose from his chair and turned to one of the bookshelves. Tapping a complex pattern on the spines of half a dozen different books caused the entire shelf to slide outward, then to the side, revealing a hidden cavity behind from which Albus withdrew a curved fang longer than a kunai.

"Basilisk venom?" Iruka asked, receiving a nod and an approving smile in response.

Dumbledore held the fang out to Black. "I think, given what this locket has cost you, that perhaps you should do the honors, Sirius. Just give me a few moments to take certain precautions, as there is no telling just what traps and protections might be woven into this Horcrux." After Black took the fang, holding it in a white-knuckled grip while glaring pure hatred at the locket, Albus began casting spells over the locket, the desk, the four men present, the walls, floor, and ceiling, and pretty much everything else in the room. Finally, at his nod, Black raised the fang up over his head in a two-handed grip before bringing it down onto the locket with all his strength. A distant part of Iruka's mind noted that his technique could use a bit of work.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, the tip of the fang seeming to simply halt just at the locket's surface. Then, suddenly, whatever protections were present seemed to yield as the fang continued downward, plunging several millimeters into the locket's face about a centimeter off-center towards the chain. An oily black mist, reminiscent of the spirit Iruka had seen fleeing Quirrell's body, poured from the puncture with a scream of rage, terror, and mortal agony that stabbed into the four men's ears far more painfully than its pitch and volume could account for. A second later the mist dissipated, leaving only the echoes of its scream and a lingering feeling of darkness that began to slowly fade. Both the echoes and the unclean feeling were swiftly driven away as Fawkes, who had sat quietly observing to this point, trilled a brief song that seemed to speak of sadness and resolve.

Black stood there, holding the fang still embedded in the locket and panting like he'd just run all the way from the Entrance Hall. "That..." he said weakly, releasing the fang and collapsing back into his chair, "We might have to do that again? Merlin..."

"Be thankful you didn't have to fight a basilisk for this one," Iruka quipped darkly, " _that_ is not something I ever want to have to repeat."

"Just please tell us the damned thing is dead," Remus said still looking warily at the locket.

Albus obligingly began casting spells over the ruined relic, before giving a grim but satisfied nod. "It now gives similar readings to the diary after Filius and Harry destroyed it. That is two anchors removed, and an unknown number yet to go."

"How do we find them?" Black asked almost plaintively.

"I am not without theories," the Headmaster said, though something about the way he said it left Iruka feeling that he was being evasive for some reason, "having done quite a bit of research into Tom's personal history in an attempt to better understand and predict his way of thinking. There are two particular items which I feel are strong candidates, and a number of locations that might prove fruitful to search. As you three are now aware of this endeavor, I will begin sharing the information I have gathered some time in the near future, once I have had an opportunity to properly organize it and set aside sufficient time for us to go over a good portion of it. Perhaps one of you might spot something which I missed, and in any case I could well benefit from having your wands at my back should I go to investigate one of the potential hiding places."

"So you think he's hidden them in recognizable locations, then?" Iruka asked. "It would be a real problem if he just decided to fly a broom out over the ocean and toss one of them into the water. So would a Horcrux made from something unremarkable, like a random stone."

Albus smiled, a bit of his usual good humor returning. "Ah, but here Tom's pride and arrogance will be some of our greatest allies. While it is true that an unobtrusive item in the middle of nowhere would indeed be nearly impossible to find, Tom would want only the most significant of items to house the precious pieces of his soul. You will understand more, I think, once you know more about his childhood and origins."

"I'm assuming you've already checked the Chamber of Secrets?" Remus spoke up.

The Headmaster nodded. "Indeed, that was one of the goals I had in mind venturing down there. Fortunately or unfortunately, Tom did not choose to hide one of his anchors in Slytherin's Chamber, likely due more to lack of opportunity than anything else."

"That reminds me," Iruka cut in, "you should probably share at least some part of this Madam Bones - who knows, the DMLE might get lucky and find one at some point. An argument could be made for Filius as well, considering he was a big part of destroying the diary."

Albus's hesitation showed as clearly on his face as his crooked nose, before he finally gave a reluctant nod. "Perhaps it would be wise to bring Amelia into our confidence, at least to some degree. You are correct in suggesting that her Aurors might stumble upon a Horcrux, or perhaps a clue that might lead to one, and she herself has proven a skilled investigator. The difficulty will be that she is of a profoundly axiomatic mindset, and will not tolerate unlawful behavior if she can prevent it. Given your previous profession and Sirius and Remus's history as pranksters, you three are all much more flexible with regards to rules." The other two looked a bit confused at this, as Iruka had still not shared the full details of his origins and abilities with them. They knew some, because of their connection to Harry, but not about the dimensional travel aspect or his jutsu, though they certainly seemed to suspect that he had been behind the anomalous flash flood after the Quidditch World Cup.

"It might also be worth seeing if you can find a decent Curse-Breaker you can trust," Sirius added, "unless you happen to know all the tricks of that particular trade. Wards, curses, and booby-traps that would have cause Moony and me no end of trouble, those guys working on Grimmauld go through 'em like they were put up by First-Years. Trouble is that there aren't exactly a lot of trained Curse-Breakers to pick from, and something like this you need to _know_ you can trust them."

"That is certainly worth considering," the Headmaster replied, "though obviously not immediately vital as we do not yet have a clear idea of where we should be searching. Still, there may be at least one possibility, but whether it will pan out remains to be seen."

"Regardless," he continued, "I must again remind you all that this information, and our efforts regarding it, _must_ be kept utterly secret. Firstly, while I'm certain none of you would be tempted to pursue such a course, there are nevertheless those who would attempt to make their own Horcrux should they learn of the possibility. Secondly, if Tom were to discover that we are aware of and seeking his treasures, he would undoubtedly act to thwart our efforts, vastly worsening the already difficult task of rendering him mortal once more."

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The other event of note in December was the Yule Ball, yet another tradition of the Triwizard Tournament. Albus and the rest of the staff had worked together with the two visiting Heads to both temporarily enlarge the Great Hall and decorate it even more spectacularly than was usual for the holiday season. Part of the spectacle _may_ have been the result a bit of one-upsmanship between the three school Heads during the decorating stage. Madame Maxime eventually won with the creation of an entire rose garden, complete with various benches and secluded spots for discreet romantic interludes that would undoubtedly require patrolling by chaperones were it not for the cold weather that would likely dampen the ardor of all but the most dedicated young lovers.

All of the faculty and staff present at Hogwarts were in attendance, as were the visiting Heads along with Ludo Bagman and Percy Weasley, the latter of which was standing in for Bartemius Crouch, who was apparently under the weather and had delegated his Tournament duties to his assistant until he recovered. Both the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons student contingents were there in their entirety, but the largest group were the students of Hogwarts: At least eighty percent of those fourth-year and up had come, along with a smattering of younger children admitted as various older students' dates. Harry and Neville had brought Luna and Ginny as their dates as friends, to allow all of S.E.N. to attend together.

Hermione had been the real surprise, to a lot of people, attending on the arm of Durmstrang champion and international Quidditch superstar Viktor Krum. Ordinarily she put little real effort into her appearance, but now she was showing that she actually cleaned up quite well indeed. Her oversized front teeth had been shrunk, her usual bushy mane tamed into smooth waves and a fancy style (courtesy of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, an invention of Harry's grandfather Fleamont Potter), and her periwinkle gown showed her developing figure kept uncommonly fit by Iruka's training. More than a few jaws hit the floor at seeing the usually somewhat frumpy witch looking radiant with easily one of the most desirable dates at the Ball, and not all of the stares directed at her were from jealous witches. The girl's beaming smile and confident bearing showed just how much good this evening was doing to exorcize the demons of poor self-image built up by years of bullying.

After the three school champions opened the Ball with the official first dance, the students flooded out to take a twirl themselves. Both Harry and Neville made sure to dance with each of their three female friends at least once, and Krum obligingly danced with Ginny and Luna once each himself. In fact, he ended up following Hermione to where S.E.N. had gathered to enjoy their evening, and got to discussing Quidditch and flying in general with Harry and Ginny, eventually joined by Cedric Diggory and his date Cho Chang, the incumbent Seeker for the Ravenclaw team. Harry's behavior towards the latter had Iruka smothering a smirk at the obvious infatuation; someone, it seemed, had begun to notice girls 'that way'. Judging by the twitching corners of Luna and Neville's lips, Iruka wasn't the only one to have picked up on this.

Beyond those simply jealous that they weren't on the arm of the famous Bulgarian, two wizards in particular seemed less than pleased by Krum's association with the Hogwarts group. Karkaroff seemed extremely put out by the fact that his superstar pupil was associating with other people - nearly every appearance by the two had the Highmaster fawning over the student and hovering over him like an overprotective mother hen. Most likely he just wanted to be connected as strongly as possible with such a major celebrity, possibly aiming to gain some degree of influence over him as well.

The other person who seemed particularly aggrieved was Ronald Weasley. Several times the redheaded Fourth-Year in the hideous maroon robes made as if to approach the group, before settling back down to simply continue glaring angrily. Iruka made sure to keep an eye on the boy, in case he was about to start trouble, but whatever his issue was it didn't seem like anything immediately dangerous. Finally, at a point where most of the pairs among the group were dancing and Krum was making his way towards the buffet with his and Hermione's goblets, the youngest male Weasley made his move.

As Ronald was stomping his way over to a presently-alone Hermione, Iruka made an excuse and started slipping through the crowd himself. He didn't think the boy was planning anything nasty, but even if he just caused a scene the chuunin wanted to be there to head it off as quickly and quietly as possible. Ginny had mentioned her youngest brother's volcanic temper, so this had the potential to get a bit ugly unless someone managed to defuse it before Mount Ronald blew his top.

Between the music and the dull roar of conversations around the room, he was practically next to the two Gryffindors before he could make out what they were saying.

"-supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" came the tail end of a firm assertion by Hermione.

"No it isn't!" shouted Ronald, "It's about winning!"

The angry shout had drawn a lot of attention and was the start of exactly the type of trouble Iruka had hoped to head off. Deciding to end this argument before it got any louder (and knowing Molly Weasley, her son probably had a fair amount of volume left unused), he stepped up to the two. "Mister Weasley," he said somewhat coldly, "your fellow students are trying to have a relaxing, enjoyable evening, and you are making a scene. If you continue causing a disruption I will have to ask you to return to your common room." He glared sternly at the boy, who grumbled angrily and sulked off.

With that incident dealt with, the evening was free to move along enjoyably for all involved.

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It turned out later that, while the Yule Ball had finished without further trouble (a spectacular success for something involving hundreds of teenagers in high spirits), the evening had not been without further drama. Apparently the youngest male Weasley had again exploded at Hermione once in the relative safety of the Gryffindor common room. From her account, along with those of the three other S.E.N. members in her House, Iruka tried to piece together what Ronald's problem was from what sounded like a somewhat rambling stream of rage.

Looking at it overall, the chuunin could only conclude that the boy was envious: He was envious of Harry's and Krum's fame and wealth, envious of Hermione's association with the Bulgarian Seeker, envious of the close connection she and the rest of S.E.N. shared with the famous "Boy Who Lived", and even a bit envious of Krum for getting a date with Hermione. Further conversation with Ginny (and with Harry, who had still been interacting with the youngest of Ginny's brothers in a friendly if distant manner - much more distant after this incident), gave Iruka further insight into the redhead's mind, even if the indirect nature of his source meant that his analysis was far from ironclad.

Apparently Ronald had a low opinion of Hermione overall, and therefore had not expected her to find a date to the Yule Ball at all. This led him to assume that she'd be available, and he considered her one of the more attractive and accessible girls that wouldn't already have dates. Thus, she was his fallback option to make sure that he had a date to the Ball in the event that no more desirable girl would accept his invitation (a likely state, given his humiliating attempt to ask Fleur Delacour). When Hermione turned out to have a date already when he asked her at the last minute, it left him feeling betrayed.

Ronald Weasley was almost certainly deeply insecure, even compared to other teenagers. Five older brothers who had each achieved a degree of success and respect in their chosen fields of endeavor, plus a younger sister that was doted upon for being the only girl born to the family in quite some time, left him feeling constantly overlooked and overshadowed. This wasn't exactly surprising, as he certainly had a lot to live up to, but it would explain his envy of those who he felt were outshining him. His lackadaisical nature might also be a result of this, as what would the point be of exerting himself if he'd never achieve enough to measure up?

It was, frankly, a mess, and not one that Iruka really felt he was suited to handling. Perhaps if the boy had joined Harry in S.E.N. he'd have found his own way to stand out among his brothers, but there was no way for anyone involved to have known that at the time. Keeping the group semi-secret would have also been a bit more difficult, admittedly, since Ronald didn't seem to have much of a filter between his brain and his mouth, but the meditation and other exercises might have helped that in time as well.

Regardless, it was too late now: He was years behind the others, and would be starting at an older age and thus benefit less from the physical portions of the training. That wouldn't be a problem on its own, but given his existing issues it could get ugly when his envy was turned towards his peers' greater advancement and abilities, negating the entire attempt to help him move past his insecurities. The most Iruka could do was explain the matter to the Weasley parents, and to Minerva as the boy's Head of House. With a sigh, he reached for his writing materials to begin a letter to the Burrow.

* * *

 **A/N: No, Himawari is not still a baby at this time. Naruto just sent along baby pics of his kids, partly to brag and partly to embarrass Boruto.  
**

 **I seriously tried to make Ron a part of S.E.N., but it just didn't make sense when the group was first forming, and the final paragraph of this chapter explains why bringing him in late would be problematic at best. It's unfortunate, since my original thoughts had him turning into the group's equivalent of Shikamaru - a lazy but brilliant tactician - but I just didn't see a believable way to bring him on board.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Key to a Successful Interview" by The Sage of Toads - It's Ranma 1/2 but many of the characters are more sensible and less odious and annoying. Very well written, but almost _never_ updates.**

 **Posted 16 June 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 76**


	61. 4-9: Memory Lane

****Disclaimer: Being neither British nor Japanese, it should therefore come as no surprise that I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto, nor anything from their respective franchises.****

 **Trigger Warning: A mention and brief discussion of rape via mind-altering magic.**

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A couple days before New Years, Dobby popped in with a message for Iruka. "Professor Headmaster Sir is asking Dobby to ask Professor Umino Sir to his office to meet with Professor Moony and Great Harry Potter Sir's dogfather." The little elf was again dressed in a child-sized suit, this one less worn and ill-fitting, with a tweed jacket and a smart red bow-tie. He also still had one bare foot and one somewhat distressed but well-cared-for sock.

Soon enough the chuunin was once again in his employer's office. "Albus," he greeted with a polite nod, "Remus, Mr. Black."

"Enough of this 'Mister Black' dragondung," the dog animagus said, "always makes me think my father's about, especially here in the Headmaster's office." This drew a round of amused grins. "You've done so much for Harry, Moony, and me, and we're going to be hip-deep in this whole Horcrux mess together - just call me Sirius, okay?"

"Sirius it is then," Iruka replied with a smile, "and you're right, we're all friends on this little venture. Just call me Iruka."

"It does my old heart good to see such things," Albus beamed from behind his desk. "Friendship, camaraderie, love - these are all things which Tom will never understand, which many of his followers dismiss or disdain, and which I firmly believe are our greatest strength against the darkness to come." He paused, his smile dimming. "But that is for the future. For now, I'm afraid, we must focus on the past." With that the Headmaster rose from his desk and retrieved his Pensieve, along with a rack of phials that were filled with the distinctive silvery-white smoky not-liquid-not-gas of extracted memories.

"Our first trip down memory lane," he stated as he withdrew the first phial from the rack, "comes courtesy of the late Bob Ogden, at the time of this recollection employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We shall be accompanying him as his duties take him to just outside the village of Little Hangleton some seven decades ago." With that, he opened the phial and emptied its contents into the shallow bowl before him. "Shall we?"

The four men observed as Ogden, dressed in an abysmally poor attempt at Muggle disguise, made his way first down a country lane and then into a thicket. Upon seeing the shack that was the memory's destination, Remus muttered about feeling better about his own cottage. Iruka found himself agreeing - the structure was so decrepit and ill-maintained that most wouldn't even consider it fit for human habitation. Looking over the filthy domicile didn't stop the chuunin from noticing a figure up in one of the trees near a front door 'decorated' with the corpse of a snake nailed on.

That figure dropped down with surprising agility, holding a wand in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. It was a man, filthy and unkempt, almost a mirror of his home in how little care he apparently showed for his hygiene or general condition. He hissed threateningly at Ogden, in what Iruka realized had to be Parseltongue, before cursing the Ministry wizard and laughing at the results.

Events that followed gave the half-feral man's name as Morfin Gaunt and revealed his sister Merope and their father, whose name wasn't spoken. Apparently Morfin had cursed a local Muggle, prompting Ogden's visit to deliver a Ministry summons. The elder Gaunt was clearly of the opinion that his family's 'pure blood' placed them above the law, ranting at length about their descent from Salazar Slytherin. In the process, he showed off both a rather ugly ring and a very familiar locket, the latter of which caused Black - _Sirius_ to stiffen and mutter "Reg". He also showed his utter disdain for his daughter, whose every mannerism announced how such verbal abuse was the norm in her life.

After the Muggle in question rode by the situation deteriorated rapidly, culminating in Ogden defending Merope from her own family and being hounded out of the house by spellfire in retaliation. As he fled, he ran into the Muggle and his companion. Iruka couldn't help but note that the man was referred to as "Tom" and bore strikingly similar features to the shade of a young Voldemort.

Bob Ogden made his exit soon thereafter, followed immediately by the four observers exiting the Pensieve. Once they'd all returned to their seats, Iruka was the first to speak. "There was certainly a fair amount to digest there, but given the amount of Parseltongue being spoken we probably missed a lot of information. Would it be possible to bring Harry in, at least for this memory, to provide a translation?"

"Actually," Albus replied with a twinkle in his eye, "while I cannot naturally speak Parseltongue, nor could I truly be considered fluent, I am in fact able to understand it when spoken by a human. I have here a transcript which I previously prepared, including a translation of all of the dialogue spoken among the Gaunts." He withdrew a roll of parchment from his desk, and proceeded to create three copies with a wave of his wand and distribute among his guests.

Sirius snorted as he read what Morfin had first said. "' _You're not welcome_ ,' he says. I never would've guessed, what with the knife and the cursing."

Finishing the scroll and considering what he'd read, seen, and heard, Iruka spoke up again. "That wealthy Muggle, his companion called him 'Tom', and he looked a lot like the teenaged Tom Marvolo Riddle that Filius, Harry, and I encountered two years ago. Given Merope Gaunt's heritage and clear infatuation with the man, would I be correct in guessing that we just saw Voldemort's parents?"

Remus looked thoughtful, and Sirius shocked, but Albus simply smiled proudly. "Well reasoned, Iruka," the Headmaster replied. "The Muggle we saw was named Tom Riddle, while the forename of the senior Gaunt was Marvolo. Lord Voldemort was born Tom Marvolo Riddle, named for his father and maternal grandfather." He proceeded to explain the events that followed the memory they'd all just watched, the arrest of the male Gaunts and the sudden elopement of Tom Riddle with Merope Gaunt, and Riddle's subsequent return.

Sirius commented again. "That Marvolo reminded me of my _dear_ departed mother," all present could hear the sarcasm dripping from the word 'dear', "with his son more like my cousin Bella. Must be all the Dark magic, rots the brain."

"I doubt the generations of inbreeding helped," Remus responded, shooting a wry look at his old friend, "in either family's case."

"Oi!"

Iruka chuckled at the byplay, before turning serious. "Merope Gaunt's situation reminds me uncomfortably of those of Harry and Dobby, though both of those two seem to have come through in better shape mentally and morally. I certainly can't see Harry committing what is tantamount to rape, regardless of how downtrodden or infatuated he might be. Both of Voldemort's parents were victims - one of a lifetime of abuse, the other of mind control and rape - and neither of them deserved it. It just makes it even uglier that one victim was the other's assailant."

Albus nodded somberly. "A convoluted set of events to be sure. Ms. Gaunt's circumstances in no way excuse her actions, nor do those actions make what came before less abhorrent. Try as I might, I find it difficult to truly find anything positive anywhere in the entire matter."

"Setting that aside for now," he continued, "I'm sure you all recognized the locket the unfortunate witch was wearing. I had already suspected before Sirius's discovery that it might be of import, a suspicion that is now confirmed. What else did you gentlemen note?"

"The ring," Remus said immediately, "something Marvolo Gaunt clearly considered even more important than the locket, given that he wore it himself instead of hanging it on a daughter that he didn't care for. I don't recognize the name Peverell though."

"It's an old Pureblood family," Sirius explained, "really old, but they went extinct in the male line centuries ago. Dear old Mum made sure Reg and me knew everything she could cram into our heads about Pureblood genealogy and bloodlines."

Iruka suspected that he was the only guest in the office to notice its occupant relaxing a bit at the former fugitive's recounting. Rather than bring this up, he pointed out another observation. "Both Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt were insane: Marvolo was made of pretty much nothing but hate and ego to the point of not even bothering to maintain his own home to even a basic level. His son was even worse, all of his father's faults and probably a full-blown psychopath besides. To be honest, given what he did to snakes, I wouldn't have been at all surprised to find out he'd moved on to giving people the same treatment at some point. Investigating the background of serial murderers often reveals a history of torturing or killing animals starting from a disturbingly young age." Albus didn't even bother to hide his stiffening at that statement. "I'm guessing that ties into something else?"

The Headmaster nodded, removing Bob Ogden's memory from the Pensieve and adding the next one in the rack. "This time, we are going to enter _my_ memory. I think you will find it both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate. Iruka's comments seem almost prescient on one point of its contents. In any case, please accompany me back some months over fifty-six years into the past, to Wool's Orphanage in London."

While the orphanage was old, dreary, and shabby like the Gaunt shack, it was vastly better-cared-for. Its cleanliness, bustle, and obvious lack of money all reminded Iruka of the Burrow, albeit without some of the vibrancy and warmth of the Weasley family home.

Albus's reaction to Iruka's comments was easy to understand upon hearing that a young, presumably ten- or eleven-year old Tom Riddle had killed another child's pet over an argument. The incident on the school outing was another red flag. It was clear from what the increasingly-inebriated matron was saying that the young boy already had his peers and even caretakers frightened of him.

Eleven-year-old Riddle looked like a clone of his father; even sitting on his bed reading, his posture was confident to the point of arrogance, not entirely unlike the cocky Muggle aristocrat, but also not as relaxed. It was telling that he expected the orphanage staff had called in some kind of expert to examine him, and that he was shocked that Albus hadn't promptly obeyed his command. Albus's persistent calm and pleasant demeanor was quite impressive, given the boy's behavior.

If they hadn't already known what this child would grow to become, Iruka would have been interrupting the memory to warn the others that he was _dangerous_. Practically every sentence from the boy's mouth, every expression on his face only reinforced the impression that there was something dark and foul in his makeup, that this was one of those rare few people too deeply and inherently evil for even Naruto to reach. The chuunin wished that he could somehow reach out to that past Albus Dumbledore, plead with him not to give this monster-in-the-making any more power to abuse, a feeling that seemed to be mirrored on the faces of his fellow observers.

Leaving the Pensieve and retaking their seats, all four men were silent for a few moments.

"That was... disturbing," was all Remus could say. Sirius just nodded his agreement.

"An accurate observation," Albus remarked with a wry but strained smile, "but perhaps not the most useful to us at present. What would you gentlemen say this encounter teaches us about Tom Riddle?"

"He was a creepy, evil sod even as a kid?" Sirius ventured.

"He wanted to be special," Remus cut in with a chiding look to his friend. "The instant you told him there was something different, something special about him, he grabbed onto it with both hands. There's also his dislike of his name, 'Tom', for being so common and ordinary."

"He also wanted power," Sirius added. "Look at how eager he was to get his hands on spellbooks, and how proud he was of being able to 'make things happen' as he put it. There's also the fact that he turned down any sort of help, wanted to do everything himself."

"Trophies," Iruka said, drawing confused looks from the Marauders and an approving smile from the Headmaster. "He had that box of items stolen from the other children, but they weren't particularly valuable. I doubt he was using them, either, since some were musical instruments and making any use of them would instantly point him out as the thief. If he wasn't taking them because he had an actual use for them, and couldn't make any money off of them, that only leaves a few likely possibilities: He might have had a compulsive urge to steal, enjoyed the challenge or the thrill of stealing, simply wanted to deny the other children their prized possessions, or wanted trophies of some type. The first two seem unlikely, since all of the items seem to have been stolen from the other orphans - a compulsive thief or a thrill-seeker would have taken things from the adults too, as well as possibly things from outside the orphanage. If it were about denying those items to the other children, he could have destroyed them and left the remains to be found rather than keeping evidence of his thefts where it could be found. To my mind, that just leaves some form of trophy-keeping, prizes to remind him of his domination over his fellow orphans."

"All of those are excellent observations," Albus replied, "and largely match my own conclusions. I would only add Tom's suspicious nature: He did not trust the staff of the orphanage, nor did he trust me. Sometimes such suspicion is warranted, a sign that things are not right in the individual's environment, but given the evidence at the time and since I consider this unlikely. More likely in this case is the tendency of those who are least worthy of trust to also be those least willing to extend it to others. We all tend to act on the assumption that the minds of others are largely alike to our own, as our own mind is the only example we are able to study in depth. This is why Hagrid is so trusting - he himself is honest almost to a fault, and has difficulty grasping that other people are not nearly so noble as he is. At the opposite end we find Tom Riddle, a boy already filled with guile, selfishness, and deceit, and who therefore sees these traits in others regardless of their true character."

"I do wonder at times whether young Tom's introduction to magic could have been handled better," Albus said to nobody in particular. "If I had only been kinder and more welcoming, could he have found love for others in his heart? If I had been stricter, could I have steered him from the path he took? Alas, I doubt that we shall ever know."

Iruka shook his head. "Most people are decent enough," he began, "or at least they start that way. Even many of history's greatest villains and monsters had the best of intentions, at first, only to be corrupted by power or driven mad with grief or pain or hate. I once encountered a man, one who called himself a god and wanted to create the most powerful and horrific weapon the world had ever seen, and was willing to commit atrocities to make that happen. As a child, he was a kind orphan who loved his friends and dreamed of bringing peace and happiness to everyone. Events and circumstances can twist even the noblest of people, and many of the greatest villains were once great heroes, or at least had the potential to be."

"There are a rare few people, though," he continued, "that are different. Something in them is just inherently broken, wrong, _evil_. From the moment they were born, they never had a chance to be a good person, because there simply was no good in them to start with. Tom Marvolo Riddle was one of those. He showed neither remorse nor any shame over hurting his fellow children, only fear of being punished. Even back then, he had no conscience, no sense of empathy - someone like that will always become a monster, given the opportunity."

Another thoughtful silence followed, broken by Sirius. "Fear. You said it, Iruka, fear of being punished. That's why old Moldy wants power: He's afraid and thinks power will make him feel safe. It'd explain why he was daft enough to rip his soul apart too - fear of death. Even the name he took announces how scared of death he is, well, death and French lessons apparently." This produced a snort from Remus and lightened the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"Getting back on topic," Iruka said pointedly, "I'm guessing that your conclusion, Albus, was that Riddle may have continued with his practice of keeping trophies, and used those to house his Horcruxes?"

"Indeed", the Headmaster replied, "that is my assessment. His habit of keeping trophies along with his ego and desire to be special likely drove him to use the greatest treasures he could to hold the fragments of his soul. After all, in his view, only the most precious of items would be considered worthy of housing a part of the great Lord Voldemort."

Remus frowned. "What about the diary, then? That wasn't any great relic, just something you could pick up at any Muggle bookseller."

"Well for starters, it was probably his first Horcrux," Iruka explained, "so he might not have had any historical treasures available at the time. Beyond that, my best guess would be that it's part of his whole 'Lord Voldemort' persona: I doubt he just left it blank - someone from a poor background wouldn't buy something they didn't intend to use - so I'd bet he originally recorded his discovery of the Chamber in it. That made it 'proof' that he was the heir of Salazar Slytherin, that he had an _important_ and _special_ wizarding pedigree. The locket is the same way, and so is the ring assuming that pans out."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "In other words, we should be looking for items that help to make Lord Voldemort feel special. I use Tom's chosen alias rather than his birth name because he has sought to distance himself from his former identity. Tom was given a Special Award for Services to the School for his framing of Hagrid, an award that to this day remains in the Trophy Room here at Hogwarts; I have cast upon this award every diagnostic and detection spell I could find, with all coming up negative. Further, I must confess to having slightly defaced it with a weak cutting charm, and the resultant scratch remains unrepaired. This, to me, is near-absolute proof that the award is not a Horcrux."

"He might've considered it as a teenager," Sirius pointed out, "but once he set his sights on older, more valuable stuff he'd have passed a school award off as not important enough. Not to mention that Moaning Myrtle's the only murder I know of at Hogwarts in the last fifty years. I mean, maybe he could've stolen the plaque or cup or whatever for however long it took to make it into a Horcrux and then brought it back, but that's a lot of work for something he'd have felt was beneath him."

"Not to mention being somewhere that anybody could find it," Remus added. "With a public spot like the Trophy Room, people would've noticed pretty quickly if something in there had nasty curses or booby-traps on it. He certainly went out of his way to protect the Locket, after all, so it stands to reason that any other Horcruxes would also be hidden and protected somehow. While I'm sure he'd be tickled at the idea of hiding one of his anchors in plain sight right under Albus's nose, I doubt he'd be foolish enough to think it would actually work."

"Why thank you, Remus." Albus's eyes were set to 'maximum twinkle'. "One other thing I feel I should point out to you all: Tom quickly concluded that his mother could not have been magical, for he was certain that if she had been she'd not have died. Even at his first true introduction to magic, he was already viewing it as a means to escape the limits of mortality."

"In any event," he continued, "I believe our time today is very nearly up. Until we are able to reconvene, please consider what we have already witnessed and discussed - new questions or insights might arise after you've had more time to digest this information. Of course, as before I must remind you all to keep these meetings absolutely secret."

"Before we go, Albus," Iruka cut in, "I think it might be helpful to share this information with Harry at some point. While he may have reacted very differently than a young Tom Riddle, the fact remains that both boys had a lot in common in their backgrounds. If we get stuck, he might be better at getting inside Riddle's head, so to speak."

"I will consider it," Albus sighed, "but it is something I would very much prefer to avoid if at all possible. Harry has already been burdened enough as it is, and I have no wish to add to his burdens. Let him enjoy his childhood, what few years of it remain."

Iruka nodded. "We should at least get as far as we can ourselves before bringing in anybody else, for secrecy's sake if nothing else. If that's all, I'll see you gentlemen - and Sirius - later."

* * *

 **A/N: Again the struggle of striking a balance between covering the material adequately and avoiding excessive rehash of canon. I refuse to fully write out something that stretched for over a dozen pages in Half-Blood Prince when it's basically just exposition.**

 **Re-reading the scene of Dumbledore bringing Riddle his Hogwarts letter, I'm impressed by how well Rowling painted a budding young monster. Magic or no magic, that kid was a serial killer in the making. Morfin was too, to be honest.**

 **A lot of people commented on my handling of Ron last chapter, mostly disappointed that he wouldn't be part of S.E.N., and I understand their feelings - I was disappointed too! There's even a spot in the events I'm working on (chapter 77 or 78, probably) where he'd be the perfect person to bring something up _if he was there_. I'd originally intended to have him be somewhat of a Shikamaru analogue, a lazy but brilliant tactician, but just couldn't find a way to plausibly bring him into the group. The person he was back in First Year wouldn't have wanted anything to do with something being described as a "study group". They could have told him the truth, but throughout the series he tends to lack a filter between brain and mouth, particularly when angry or annoyed, which could have led to their secrets being shouted out in Draco's face within days ("Oh yeah? Well **_**I'm**_ **learning awesome foreign magic that'll let me walk on walls!" or something similar). My original take on the Chamber of Secrets had Ron being part of it, but with the way events played out there was no way to have him there; after all, why would Iruka bring a twelve/thirteen-year-old noncombatant into such a dangerous situation unless he had no other choice?**

 **My take on Ron is that he had a lot of potential as a character, but it was never truly realized in canon. He also had some serious issues that were never really addressed. Going forward in this story, he's not going to be playing a significant role (unless I land in a spot where he'll be present to offer some strategic insight to the Order), but neither will he be subject to bashing.**

 **Fic Recommendation: "The Original Naked Quidditch Match" by Evilgoddss - Fred and George have managed to land the Gryffindor Quidditch team with a binding magical obligation to play their game against Slytherin completely nude. The Chaser girls want to kill them, Harry's fan club are hoarding cameras, and Harry himself is debating the pros and cons of allying with Voldemort.**

 **Posted 30 June 2019  
Current WIP Chapter: 77**


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